I'm on fire! Three chapters in four days!

Before I begin, I would like to address a few questions I received in reviews. Will the school ever find out about Severus's pregnancy? Well, telling would be spoiling the plot, but I suppose that possibility does always exist. And as for Draco and his apparent hatred for Rose, I cannot in good faith explain that in a few sentences. So that will have to wait until it unfolds in the story. But I will say this. This is a story about relationships, of all sorts. And jealousy can have a profound effect on any one of them. If you think about Draco in context with his relationship with Severus, I think it makes more sense.

Anyway, this was a ridiculously fun chapter to write. I don't get to write action very often, so it was great to get to stretch my wings a little. And that title...I was listening to Defying Gravity from Wicked the whole time I was working on this, and I just could not help myself. Ignore my fan-girl tendencies please.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.

~HP~

As it was in many long past years, the first Quidditch match of the season between Gryffindor and Slytherin had caused a considerable amount of hype in the days leading up to it, especially among those who knew of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Emily Block, who was still confined to the hospital wing. Students wondered very loudly if having a reserve player was a good or bad thing, which greatly annoyed the Gryffindor team, their lightning-scarred captain in particular. Harry didn't know why people had to question his judgment like that, but he put up with it to a degree. Like Ron said, kids will be kids.

Saturday morning came bright and brisk, and the entire Hogwarts population, all bundled up, made their way across the grounds to the Quidditch pitch. Severus was of course among them, wrapped tightly in thick wool robes. A few had discouraged him from attending, citing his pregnancy as reason. But the Potions master had sternly maintained that he be there for his house; he had never missed a Slytherin match in all his years at Hogwarts. Bugger on them to insinuate that it was a risk to watch Quidditch while expecting! It wasn't like he was going to be playing! And though he was the only person to know it, nothing was going to stop him from being there for Rose, offering silent praise to her. All in all, it came together to turn Severus into a stubborn, reasonably grouchy wizard. And so, wanting to avoid provoking the Potions master's testy moods, it was settled. Severus sat high up in the faculty stands, surrounded by his more knowing colleagues.

"A lovely day for a match," said Remus, making light conversation. He was seated to Severus's left, twiddling his gloved fingers to deflect from the fact that he was ready to grab his wand at any time. He was sure that Albus would have charms around their seats to protect them from any Bludgers or broomsticks that might come flying at them, but you couldn't be too careful. Severus noticed this and rolled his eyes slightly. Sometimes Remus took his oath to protect him and the baby a little too seriously.

"Of course you would say that," he said. "I'm sure Potter wishes it were raining. At least then, he could blame a terrible team on the weather."

"Oh stop that, Severus," said Cassandra. The Muggle Studies professor was sitting directly behind her DADA colleague, sipping tea from an insulated thermos. "Remus and I watched them while they were practicing a few times. They know what they're doing. And even if they're not, they sure make it look like they do."

"We will see soon enough." Severus looked out over the pitch and sighed. He wasn't in the mood for idle chatter. Actually, he was rather nervous to be there. He was nervous for Rose, and he was nervous for himself to be watching Rose so closely surrounded by others. He had to put on a pretty good performance that morning in order to hide just how far away his mind was, in Gryffindor tower to be more exact. Unconsciously, he rested his hand on the raised bump at his middle.

"Are you feeling alright, Severus?" he heard Remus ask, ever the concerned comrade. "You look a little peaky."

"I'm fine, Remus," Severus answered. What was he talking about? He wasn't alright, not as long as he had that sickening adoration for that one redheaded girl. He couldn't think of being content while forcing himself to suppress his love in public. "It's just that my pre – that my body has become more sensitive to temperatures as of late." Severus had briefly forgotten that he couldn't talk about his pregnancy in public either. In addition to Cassandra, Aurora and Septima were a few rows behind, and he did not want to give those witches something to gossip about – not that they needed any help with that.

Remus nodded his understanding. "As long as you're okay," he replied. It was short and it was to the point; he felt that Severus had had enough of people telling him how concerned they were. But his statement wasn't empty in the slightest. "You put up quite the fight to be here, I would hate to see you being forced to leave halfway through."

"No need to worry about that. I am staying here until that last whistle blows." Severus looked further away, hoping to the high heavens that the werewolf couldn't smell his unnerve.

~HP~

Rose blew out a long breath to calm the jitters in her stomach as she strapped on her tough leather armguards. Her scarlet red robes hung about her slender body, and her hair had been tied back in a French braid by Parvati. The broom she would be riding was propped against wall. She paced the floor of the Gryffindor locker room, worrying that she was starting to wear a track in the old wood floor. It had been a long time since Rose had been this nervous about anything, probably not since she sat for her O.W.L.s. It had been fine the night before and she was calm at breakfast, but it was getting hard to maintain that now that she could hear the crowds gathering in the stands outside.

Just before the game was to begin, Harry called his teammates together for his customary, often unneeded captain's pep talk. "Alright guys," he began. "This is going to be a tough one. I haven't heard anything about Slytherin's game plan, but that doesn't mean that they aren't up to something. They could already have a mission to take us out, or they could make it up as they go along. I want you guys to stay as focused as you can on your positions, but at the same time, you have got to keep your eyes open and moving. Watch out for Goyle and O'Rourke, they'll be aiming for our heads no doubt. Dean, girls, I know you'll be roughed up, so do what you can to stay on course, even if you have to fight back."

"Within reason of course," Demelza spoke up. "We can't sink down to their level."

"It obviously works for them, Demy," said Seamus, swinging his beater's bat to warm up his shoulder. "How else do you think they held onto the cup for seven straight years?"

"And look at what that's done for their reputation," Harry added, regaining control of the lecture. "Anyway, we have to stay on our toes and stay within our limits. Above all, don't let them distract you from our game. Demelza, Dean, remember to work with Rose like you would with Emily. And Seamus, Ritchie, be careful about where you're aiming when you're swinging at the Bludgers. We don't want another close call. Slytherin is going down!" Harry stuck out his leather-clad hand, and Ron placed his on top. The others followed one by one, and then they broke apart with a hearty, "Go, go Gryffindor!"

Ron strapped on his helmet, grabbed his broom, and made his way over to the closed gate. Dean and Demelza followed him, and Seamus and Ritchie were not far behind them. Harry was about to grab his Firebolt and head out to lead his team when he noticed Rose standing rather still, kneading the handle of her broomstick in her hands. He approached her and touched her arm. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Rose. "Just a little nervous."

"Don't be," said Harry, lightly shaking his head. "I said it before, and I will say it again. You'll be great – no – you'll be fantastic."

"We'll see," Rose walked over to the small window at the side of the room and looked out. Even from there, she could see the tops of the stands and the cheering crowds occupying them. She swallowed. "I don't get that many chances to impress my peers, and I don't want to blow them when I do."

"Oh Rose, you won't," Harry encouraged. He was a humble guy for the most part, but he could guess that it would be easy for someone else to feel a little lackluster when they stood behind him, Ron, and Hermione, and Rose had been more a shadow for them than anyone else. "I wouldn't have put you on the team if I didn't think that you could play. Those people who've been talking about you would be foolish to say anything different. Think of it this way. You want to prove them wrong, so then play as such."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Harry, it's not as though my whole reputation depends on this match."

"Ah, you're worth more than a few frustrating rows in class, Rose. Actually, I have to tell you that I'm prepared to write a snobby letter to Azkaban just to brag about you." Rose turned to Harry, wide-eyed in an emotion caught between shock and amusement. "Oh Harry, you wouldn't!"

"Oh yes, I would. We wouldn't want your dad to go about his day without another reason to regret his bad parenting, would we?" Again, Harry rested his hand on Rose's shoulder, gently squeezing it. "Forget about everyone else. How do you feel when it's just you that you're thinking about?"

Rose thought for a moment, letting her eyes trail away. It was impossible to ignore those like Parkinson, Malfoy, and certainly her father. She could hear the would-be criticisms that they would no doubt hand her if given the chance. But then there were people like Harry and Hermione, Ron and the other Gryffindor girls. They all stood by her and defended her, her pride, and her worth. She had the support of McGonagall and Wicker, the latter especially making no secret of it. But above all, Snape believed in her. He commended her and her skills, regardless of his position as Slytherin's Head of House. Maybe, just maybe, he thought she was better than his own players. And he would be watching her the whole time. The thought could have melted Rose's heart. So after a long moment's deliberation, she spoke.

"I feel like I'm ready to play Quidditch. I know that I can play. I'm part of an amazing team, and they're not going to bring us down. We'll win!"

"That's a girl!" Harry smiled. "I'll add to that. You'll help us win. We will play like we're the greatest team that Britain has ever seen." Rose smiled in return and the two of them exited the locker room together, brooms in hand. She also couldn't hold back the snigger in her throat; as if they could play better than the British World Cup players!

At the gate, Harry stepped up to the front of their group to stand beside Ron and mounted his broom. His faithful followers did the same, and Harry took one last look over his shoulder at Rose. She now had a firm look of determination across her face. 'That's it Rose,' he thought to himself. 'Because there's no turning back now.' The gate slowly creaked open, letting in the bright sunshine, and the Gryffindor team kicked off the ground into the open air.

The Quidditch pitch was packed, and the noise of their cheers was almost deafening when combined with the bitter wind that blew against them. Flashes of green and red filled the skies as the players from both teams zipped around the area, getting used to the feel of their brooms and the quality of the air. Rose stuck close to the stands, looking down on the spectators below. She flew past a screaming Lavender and Parvati, and then she saw Neville, holding Luna close to his body. Several feet more and she felt the cold stare of Pansy Parkinson, now aided by her pack of Slytherin girls whose names she always seemed to forget. Not wanting to give them the satisfaction, Rose made a sharp turn and cut across the field, as well as Malfoy's airspace. Seeing the obvious look of distain on his face, she sneered at him as she flew by.

"Hello students and faculty of Hogwarts! Welcome to this season's first Quidditch game!" Justin Finch-Fletchly's amplified voice echoed over everyone's heads. By popular opinion, it had been decided sometime before that a newer, more alert commentator was needed, and Lavender's boyfriend was the top pick. Luna had not been bitter in losing the position. In fact, she was happy to hand it over. She preferred to just watch the games anyway. "This is the start of what is sure to be a fantastic race for the Quidditch cup. Today we have the reigning champions of Gryffindor against Slytherin."

Rose flew close to the faculty stands, and immediately started scanning over the faces for Snape. Sure enough, there he was between Lupin and Sprout, staring up at her from his seat. That in itself was an extra boost of confidence that only the Potions professor could provide. Rose just resisted the urge to smile at him when she heard Madam Hooch's whistle, calling them into position. She flew over to the center of the field and steadied her broom to the left side, beside Dean. All of the players looked down at Hooch, who was holding the Quaffle. As always, there was a stern warning of good sportsmanship as those hawk-eyes glided over every one of them. And then, the red ball was tossed up into the air.

"And they're off! Gryffindor takes position of the Quaffle – Dean Thomas passes to Demelza Robins – Robins to reserve chaser Rose Beckett. Beckett is moving down the field, she passes back to Thomas – the Quaffle is stolen on the fly by Slytherin's Mark Ruggins! He passes to Eddie O'Connell – Oi! O'Connell is hit by a Bludger from Seamus Finnigan! Thomas catches the Quaffle – passes to Robins – and Robins scores! Ten points to Gryffindor!"

The students of Gryffindor and their allies cheered. Demelza high-fived both Rose and Dean as she flew past. But in a second, they were back in the game. Slytherin had the Quaffle, by means of their third chaser Erik Byrne. Demelza swooped in to try and get it back, but Ruggins forced her out of the way. Dean went in, but he just missed being hit by a stray Bludger. Byrne would have scored if Ron hadn't been so quick to block his shot. The Quaffle was back in Gryffindor's possession, and Dean had the Slytherin goal posts in his sights. But alas, that was the only thing in his sights.

"O'Connell knocks the Quaffle right out from behind Thomas's arm!" Justin shouted into the air, obviously as surprised as the rest of the crowd. "I didn't see that one coming, and obviously he didn't either."

Flying close together, O'Connell and Byrne started rapidly passing the ball back and forth between them, giving Gryffindor little chance to take it back. Goyle and that wall of muscle called O'Rourke also stayed on top of them, more ready to use their bodies than their bats. Rose had to duck to avoid a blow to the head from O'Rourke. She followed behind the two rival chasers, her eyes locked on the Quaffle. She timed her opponents' throws, and realized that she literally had half a second and the width of her shoulders to do it. There was a window, but it was only open so far. Rose steadily picked up speed, feeling the sting of the wind on her face and the thumping of her heart in her chest. Byrne went to throw it back to O'Connell, who would then take on Ron in the scoring zone. Suddenly, there was the massive noise of wood on air as Rose's broom burst forward like a bullet right out of the barrel.

"Beckett's got the Quaffle! What a steal! Absolutely amazing, ladies and gentlemen!" Justin's voice could barely be heard over the roar of noise from the student crowds.

Rose gripped the Quaffle tightly to her side, quickly weaving in and around other players. She would have gone for the goal if Ruggins hadn't tried to fly directly into her, forcing her into a sharp upward pull. Flustered and still ahold of the Quaffle, she looked around for any of her teammates. Demelza swiftly swooped in several feet below, and Rose immediately recognized her fellow chaser's strategy.

"Beckett tosses the Quaffle straight down to Robins!" she heard Justin say. "That's an age-old technique there, folks. A staple for Gryffindor for decades."

Demelza sped off for the Slytherin scoring zone, leading Ruggins and Byrne in a close chase. Rose surveyed the scene from above. Dean was being blocked by O'Connell, so he couldn't come to Demelza's aid. Two hunters then became one when Seamus hit a Bludger at just the right angle to knock Ruggins off course. But Byrne was not giving up in the slightest. She glanced over at a hovering Harry, who was looking rather desperate at the fact that he couldn't do much except keep his eye out for that bloody Snitch, which had yet to be sighted by either team. But Rose noticed something else. Slytherin seemed to be awfully focused on Demelza, every one of them including the beaters and keeper. No one really thought to look up.

Rose plunged down in a deep nose dive, pulling herself up just short of the goal posts, and then cried out Demelza's name. Demelza looked up to see her outstretched hand, and instantly tossed out the Quaffle over Byrne's head. It wasn't in Rose's grip for a second before she turned to Slytherin's big burly keeper and hurled it out with a grunt.

"Gryffindor scores!"

In the stands, Gryffindor house was all shouts and excitement. Hermione had finally sunk to Lavender's level, because she was screaming right along with her and Parvati for their mutual friend. Rose quickly flew over their heads with a fist in the air and a grin across her face. It was amazing to hear the crowds cheering for her. For her, not Harry! She felt the mass encouragement seep into her bones, pushing onward over the field.

In his seat in the faculty stands, Severus's toes twitched in his boots as he watched Rose. Most of his body had been tense while watching that game play, that fantastic steal. That was replaced with a sense of elation immediately after she made the goal. His heart was quite merrily thumping away in his chest. Severus worked hard to stop himself from grinning, but one corner of his mouth still tweaked up in a small, subtle smirk. He imagined how Rose felt to finally have the praise she had wanted, even if it was more for her house than her individually. And even if she didn't pay much mind to it in that mild-mannered way of hers, that certainly wouldn't stop him from feeling delighted for her.

The game once again recommenced, and Slytherin finally managed to get a goal for themselves before Gryffindor took possession of the Quaffle again. This time, Dean was quite determined to hold onto it as long as possible, and Rose and Demelza were just as determined to make that happen. The two girls got on either side of him, flying in a distinct triangular angle. Bryne, Goyle, and O'Rourke were all forced to the side. Dean picked up speed, racing for what was surely their third goal. But then there was a tremendous crash as Ruggins rammed into his side, nearly knocking Dean off his broom and making him drop the Quaffle.

"Oi! I don't care what house you're in, that's got to hurt! That's a penalty to Gryffindor – Beckett gets the shot – and she puts it in!"

"Oh, would you look at Rose go!" Cassandra said excitedly as though she were watching her own daughter up there.

"Good on Harry for picking such a capable reserve player," said Remus, gently elbowing Severus's arm. "I knew she could play, but I didn't know she was so quick."

"There are a lot of things that people don't know about Beckett," said Severus, clenching his gloved hands in his robes. "Somehow, this doesn't surprise me." No, not in the slightest, he silently added to himself. It appeared that Rose was actually starting to emerge as the chaser to watch for Gryffindor, which of course he had no objections to. But Severus felt his stomach drop when he realized what happened to star chasers in Slytherin games. Even from there, he could see the angry glares aimed at her from Ruggins and Malfoy above.

There was a hustle and bustle in the air around them that briefly distracted him from Rose, and he looked up to see both Potter and Malfoy rapidly descending. The Snitch had finally been spotted, and now a new race was on.

Gryffindor played another old tactic, one where all three of them travelled a certain length down the pitch before handing it off to another chaser. Demelza handed off to Dean, who handed off to Rose, who nearly scored another goal if she hadn't been blocked. O'Connell immediately took hold of it and sped off down the field. Rose however shot off after him, as fast as the chilly wind blowing them around. The rival chaser was twice her size, but she wasn't afraid of him. She had to quickly jerk away to avoid O'Connell's elbow, probably robbing her team of another penalty shot, but she still found a quick chance to punch the Quaffle right out of the crook of his arm, and then plunge down to catch it.

"Bring her down!" Malfoy shouted out to his teammates. "Bring her down!"

Rose saw the Bludger coming, and in a move as quick as it was foolish, she swung herself off the seat of her broom and locked her legs to dangle off it. Upside down, she saw Dean pass under her, and she tossed the Quaffle down to him. Another goal, and Gryffindor was leading forty to ten. Satisfied, Rose hauled herself back up.

The score became forty to twenty when Byrne got past Demelza and Ritchie to score for Slytherin. Everybody was feeling the intense competition, egged on by the crowds around them. The game was also starting to get more complicated now that players had to dodge the seekers that now soared erratically among them. Rose made damn sure that she let nothing distract her from the Quaffle. There was no way in hell that she was going to let her team down now.

"Gryffindor has possession – Robins is racing down the field – ducks to avoid a Bludger – ducks again to avoid O'Rourke – she passes to Beckett, who is off like a shot – she's nearly to the posts and – oh!"

Ruggins had gotten up alongside Rose, grabbed her broom handle and pushed her with great strength. This sent Rose into a terrible spin, and the Quaffle went flying. Ruggins then grabbed it and went on to a failed attempt at a goal. Rose gripped her broom, finally managing to get ahold of herself long enough to stop the spinning. She came out of that ordeal feeling rather ill with a slight case of double vision.

"You okay, Rose?!" Harry shouted, but all Rose could do was nod with pressed closed lips. She did not want to be sick in front of the entire school.

"Penalty! That's a penalty!" Remus stood and shouted to Madam Hooch, who blew the whistle in response before he could finish. The werewolf sat himself back down and leaned down to Minerva, seated in the row in front of them. "Despicable, I tell you!"

"When you've been doing this as long as I have Remus, you learn to get used to it," the deputy headmistress replied in a tone that was quite suggestive to those there to overhear, more likely directed at Severus. Severus for his part remained silent. Rose had come to a stop right by their seats, and he could see the look on her face. He knew that look so well after those long weeks of living with morning sickness; the poor thing was obviously trying to keep herself from losing her last meal.

'She's okay,' he told himself, his eyes suddenly noticing Malfoy paying particular, very malicious attention to her. 'She'll be back at it in a few minutes. She's okay.'

The Quaffle was retrieved and was offered to Rose for the penalty shot. She wasn't sure if she wanted to go for it after her little whirl. But she looked down to see how close she had drifted to the faculty stands. She picked out Snape instantly, letting the flutters he brought calm her stomach. He gazed up at her with a look that just told her to keep going. She could almost hear his voice inside her head. "It's not like you to give up so easily, Beckett." She swallowed hard, and then flew forward to take the Quaffle.

She stared down the Slytherin keeper, trying her absolute best to psych him out. Evidently, it wasn't working because he was hardly moving, watching her as closely as she watched him. It was a game of cat and mouse, fifty feet in the air. At last, Rose made her move and got the Quaffle in with only millimeters to spare.

"Another goal for Gryffindor! They now lead Slytherin fifty to twenty!"

Rose cried out with excitement as she flew out to salute her teammates. Her pride and giddiness worked to quell her nausea, and she listened to the students shouting their agreement. But she wasn't totally aware of her surroundings. Over the crowds, she didn't hear Malfoy growling out, "You idiots! Knock her down!"

Demelza had the Quaffle, and Rose pivoted her broom to follow. But suddenly, there was a horrible crack on the air, and Rose cried out in pain. A Bludger had hit her directly on the broad side of her shoulder with incredible force, disabling most of her left side and sending her tumbling back off her broom. There was an audible mass gasp of horror as the school population watched her plummet through the air.

Rose held her breath, preparing for the impact of the landing and the pain it would bring with it…if she would be conscious long enough to feel it.

All of a sudden, she felt her ankle jerk up above the rest of her body, causing another sharp pain. She cried out again, but then she opened her eyes to see that the world was no longer rushing past her. As a matter of fact, it was perfectly still, just upside down. She was hovering in midair, suspended by her likely broken ankle. A swift act of magic had saved her from falling to the earth. Rose let go of a hard, terribly grateful breath; she had seen half of her life flash before her eyes there.

Severus stood in his seat, his wand pointed directly at Rose, his breath noticeably increased. Every part of his body was tense with that abrupt burst of adrenaline. It had been a long time since he moved that fast, whipped out his wand so quickly. He wasn't the only one moving to stop Rose's fall, but he would be damned if he wasn't the one to actually save her. He knew that such a sudden Levicorpus would do some physical damage, but it was far better than watching his beloved Rose land head first on the hard ground.

"You've got her, Severus?!" Dumbledore shouted up from his seat. It was more of an encouragement than a question, but he did need somewhat of a confirmation. Severus nodded his head tersely, his eyes still firmly locked on the floating Gryffindor. "I have her, Albus. She's not going anywhere."

"Well done, Severus!" Minerva said exasperatedly, a hand on her chest. "I was so afraid that no one would act fast enough to stop her."

"Better me than one of the students," said Severus. Please, better him than the headmaster himself! He breathed away the anxiety, his pulse finally starting to slow down.

Harry called for a timeout, prompting Hooch to blow the whistle. Players screeched to a halt as Madam Pomfrey rushed out onto the field, surprisingly followed by Neville. Once she was standing below Rose, her arms and braid dangling, the Mediwitch raised her hand above her head and motioned for her to come down. Severus recognized the signal and very carefully started to lower Rose down. Once she was close enough, Rose managed to get her uninjured arm around Neville's neck, and only after he saw this did Severus release her from his spell. Rose's body fell back into its natural upright position, causing Rose to hunch over in pain, relying on Neville for support.

Madam Pomfrey surveyed the injuries she had sustained from the Bludger, as well as her ankle. A quick diagnostic charm revealed that it was indeed broken, and there were also some broken bones in her shoulder. It was easy for the Mediwitch to say that Rose was in no condition to continue on with the match. Gryffindor would have to manage with their two remaining chasers. Rose had enough time to look up at Harry's despaired, frustrated frown before she limped off of the field, still supported by Neville.

Severus watched her go, not turning back to the game until she was completely out of sight. Then he slowly lowered himself back down. That rush of energy had left his balance a little off kilter. He took in deep, controlled breaths, supported by Remus's hand on his shoulder. But his thoughts still lingered on Rose, and would so for a great deal of time after. As far as he was concerned, he didn't care who won now. If Slytherin lost even with a three on two match, that was their karma for deliberately harming the girl he loved so dearly.

~HP~

I don hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. Keep up the good reading and please leave reviews. Thank you!