[Quidditch, quidditch, quidditch.squee!]





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Ch. VII: The next Morning (Quidditch)

Percy took his seat at the Gryffindor table the next morning as if nothing had changed. One thing had changed, as next to him sat Xanne Malloy. The pair of them looked extremely tired, and Xanne's expression told that she still wasn't over the events of the previous night's events. Percy was not either. They were not 'together' as some students would put it, but they had developed an understanding. Percy no longer thought ill of Slytherins, and Xanne decided that Gryffindors weren't that bad after all.well, Percy wasn't.

"Percy!" came a shout from across the hall as Oliver Wood ran quickly to the table, slid past his seat and fell to the floor. He picked himself up off of the ground amidst the sniggers of the Gryffindors and Slytherins who had seen him fall. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Oliver, I'm fine," he said, grinning at the burly boy seated across from him. "I was-."

"I know where you were, Penny told me before she turned last night," he said, not pausing to breathe.

"That was awfully nice of her," Percy said, raising an eyebrow. "Did she stay after she had informed you?"

"Of course not!" Oliver looked as if the thought the idea was preposterous.

"I don't care Oliver," he said, grinning. Xanne couldn't help but chuckle beside him. "Penny and I are through, you're welcome to go out with her if you like."

"No, I wouldn't dream of it," he said, stabbing his fork into a sausage and taking a bite off of the end. He then spoke thickly, through his full mouth. "She's not my type."

"What is your type?" Xanne asked, thoughtfully. She neatly cut up a sausage on her plate and took dainty bites of it.

"Not you," he said in a matter of fact tone. He looked up from his food and grinned widely and in an obviously fake way at her, sausage protruding from his teeth.

"Ugh.I'm beginning to miss the Slytherins." She looked almost wistfully at the students one table over who were cutting their food nicely and carefully making sure nobody was looking before putting it into their mouth.

"No one's forcing you to stay," Oliver said, taking a swig of his pumpkin juice. "After all, you are a Slytherin at the Gryffindor table, hanging on the arm of the Head Boy."

"Well, Percy's my friend and if you can't accept that, I can't help you Wood," she snapped, dark eyes narrowing.

"I was kidding, relax Malloy." He looked over at the pair of them, looking like they'd known each other for years and not one day. Percy looked happier than he had in weeks, like he had gotten something off of his chest. Oliver wanted to get something off of his chest at that moment, but thought better of it and continued eating his breakfast in silence.

He was going to watch the quidditch game that day. It was meant to be Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin, but it had been changed to Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw due to the fact that Slytherin had a new captain and chaser to train. It was rubbish in his opinion, they should play no matter what the condition. After all, Gryffindor had played Hufflepuff in a torrential downpour. He'd probably just sit there taking notes on the quidditch game and point out the obvious weaknesses of both teams like he usually did, no different.

When Percy and Xanne had left to go to a prefect's meeting; he decided that he should go out to the pitch and get a good seat if he was to take notes on the game. He stood and began walking out of the bright hall. The enchanted ceiling was emitting rays of sunlight so bright; it was almost unbearable to sit in the hall. The long tables were filled with students chattering about the quidditch game or their studies or other things. He left the hall, throwing his bag over his shoulder.

Once outside, the real sky was almost unbearably bright in itself. He climbed up into the stands and got a front row seat in the Gryffindor section that was practically deserted save two or three younger Gryffindor boys longing to see a match. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff sections filled slowly and soon, the commentator was on the megaphone once again, announcing the match to the stadium half filled with fans.

Once the two teams were in the air, he brought out a sleek black quill, a small bit of parchment and a jar of red ink. Carefully unscrewing the lid, he set the ink down on the seat next to him. After dipping his quill into the ink, he made a chart, one side for Hufflepuff and the other for Ravenclaw. The second the quaffle was in the air with the players, he began jotting down things like: 'watch Hufflepuff beater, strong arm,' and 'Ravenclaw keeper is weak to shots on the left side.'

The match was probably about half over; they didn't actually have a set time since it all ended at the catching of the snitch. By chance, Oliver's glance strayed from the game and over to the Slytherin stands where two familiar people were arriving and taking seats in the back row of the empty section. Percy Weasley helped Xanne Malloy to a seat and took one himself, right beside her, watching the game intently.

Oliver felt a pang of jealousy. Those two were awfully close for just meeting the day before. And why hadn't they come to sit with him. He began wishing they had never met each other. Before he knew it, he actually detested their presence in the stadium. What was this feeling? He just couldn't be jealous of those two they were just friends. And he had made it perfectly clear that he did not have feelings for the Malloy girl. Why was he feeling this way now if he didn't want her? He assumed that somewhere deep inside him, his friend having a pretty girl and him being alone was a great cause of annoyance, even if they were just friends.

He grimaced at the petty notions and turned back to his parchment before once again focusing on the game before him. Every once in a while jotting down a note, but mostly just watching the game with a pained look on his face.

In the end, Ravenclaw had one, no surprise there. Their seeker, Cho Chang's recovery was indeed miraculous. She was able to catch the snitch after a twenty foot vertical dive before leveling out her Comet two sixty and waving it before the cheering Ravenclaws as she took a victory lap. He jotted down a note to remind Harry about working on his dives before crossing it out.the kid had a Firebolt, what was the use.

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Later that day, the Slytherins had a practice with their new captain, Terrence Higgs. His demeanor in front of the team was fluid, he was a natural leader and Xanne wondered why Snape hadn't chosen him in the first place. He took the field with the stolid grace of someone who had been doing this for years.

With the flick of his wand, he had two flying bull's eyes for Bole and Derrick to aim bludgers at. They smirked at each other, clearly loving the challenge and tore after them on their Nimbus 2001s, clutching their beaters' clubs. Soon after, he had a snitch charmed for Malfoy so that it would always remain inside the pitch and once caught, would become quicker and more evasive. Higgs grinned as the blonde boy tore after it; it would probably keep Malfoy occupied for hours. Next he turned to Adrian Pucey and told him to go warm up Bletchley, who had been demoted to 'reserve keeper.' Montague practiced along side Bletchley, and they both seemed to have gotten increasingly better since the absence of their previous captain.

Once everyone else was accounted for, Higgs turned to Xanne, tossing a quaffle to her lightly. She caught it with ease and rested it on her hip, never taking her eyes off of him.

"What's in store for me captain," she smirked playfully at him. He looked at her, as if he was itching to say something. Finally, he opened his mouth and got it out.

"I can't thank you enough Xanne," he breathed.

"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to look clueless. He clearly wasn't buying it, and had good reason not to.

"Professor Snape told me what you did last night in the bathroom," he said and she frowned, ashamed, before realizing that was not what he meant. "He told me you gave up his offer to become captain and told him to pick me instead."

His blue eyes twinkled and Xanne was beginning to have the same thoughts that Flint had.why on earth was this boy a Slytherin? His blonde hair fell into his face and he blushed slightly as he looked into her eyes.

"It was nothing, Terrence, really," Xanne insisted, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Now, when are we going to play some quidditch?"

He simply grinned and retrieved his broom from the grass, mounting it and taking off. She closely followed, tossing the quaffle to him. He caught it, though awkwardly, taking both hands off of his broom and jerking out of the smooth flight he had previously had.

Xanne tried not to laugh at the older boy, but it was quite funny. The difficulty of the switch was understandable; one normally didn't switch from the ball the size of a walnut to one the size of a pumpkin. He got it eventually, tossing it with ease, but not quite the skill that Xanne or the other chasers had. The two of them laughed and whipped the quaffle at each other and through the other set of goal posts for a while before Xanne mentioned something to him. He got that excited look about him again and they rocketed over to the other side of the pitch, calling back the beaters, seeker, chaser and keepers.

They were off to practice the Hawkshead attack formation; one of Slytherin's most feared offensive play. The trouble was, the formation was a v-shape, Flint being the apex. He held the quaffle and darted forward, the prongs of the 'v' were the two chasers, Malloy and Pucey, followed by the two beaters, Bole and Derrick on opposite ends. Malloy and Pucey blocked all chasers looking to steal the quaffle from Flint, and Bole and Derrick did their part by deflecting the bludgers and sending them towards the other chasers and seeker if he got too close.

"Now, I know it's going to be different," Higgs said slowly. "But, we'll have to make some modifications to the Hawkshead formation."

"But that's our most dangerous weapon!" said Bole, clearly not wanting to mess with a good thing.

"Precisely," Xanne interjected. "But we do need to make certain accommodations for Terrence. He can't simply step into Flint's spot, Flint had the biggest role of all and Terrence is only a novice chaser. We'll obviously have to make Pucey the apex."

"I was thinking about having you do it, Xanne," Higgs said quickly. "I mean, you have all of the plays memorized and have the most experience playing with Flint."

He turned red and the team began to laugh out loud. He couldn't get the words out that it was clearly misinterpreted before it was an all out uproar of laughter.

"Alright!" he shouted. "Clearly, you took that the wrong way. Xanne will be the apex of the Hawkshead, Pucey will keep the left side and I'll take the right.any questions?"

Before they took off again, Higgs sent Malfoy away with the special snitch and told Bletchley and Montague to act as opposing chasers. The team looked anxious and excited all at the same time.

Xanne took the air first, flying around the goal posts and making the signal, throwing her fist into the air. Like they had with Flint, though the fist in the air was much smaller, the chasers and beaters flew behind her and followed as she took off in the direction of the opposite goal. Pucey grinned as the powerful 'v' practically sliced its way through the air. Higgs couldn't help smiling himself, but focused as Bletchley and Montague began to lunge at Xanne.

It had worked flawlessly. The team couldn't help but grin as they learned the power of their secret weapon. Bletchley and Montague were a bit off color due to the fact that Bole and Derrick hadn't shown any mercy with fending them off of their chaser. Once they had run through the play a few more times, Higgs called them all to the floor of the pitch.

"You have clearly been practicing," he said with a smile. Soon, that smile turned into a manic glint reminiscent of the one Flint had, though lacking the intimidating nature of his. "We should have no problem defeating those Gryffindors, let alone the Puffs and Claws."

The team walked off of the field feeling considerably better about the loss of their captain. They almost forgot to call back Malfoy who was still chasing the snitch.

"Xanne," said a voice behind her as she picked the quaffle up off of the ground. She turned to find Higgs standing there. "You fly beautifully," he said, his blue eyes shining in the sunset.

"You're not so bad yourself captain," Xanne grinned back at him, tossing the red quaffle into his arms. He flinched and caught it, immediately pulling it into his chest. "Watch that, they'll call you on that one. The quaffle must always be on the side of your body. If it's on your chest, you're just asking to be fouled by other players, and it would be way too hard to steal that way."

She reached her hands out and moved the quaffle out to his right side, adjusting his arms so he held it in a cradle pinned to his waist. He watched her intently the whole time, only partly due to the fact that she obviously knew what she was doing.

Someone else was watching the two intently also, from one of the windows of the castle; a scowling Marcus Flint had seen the entire practice. He had marveled at how quickly he was replaced in the Hawkshead and how easily his team, and Xanne, had warmed up to Terrence Higgs.

"Flint!" Snape called from outside the door. "Your bathroom break is over, come out here so we can return to the dungeons."

Flint cast one more glance at Xanne, who was now showing Higgs the proper way to grip his broom when handling the quaffle, and left the dark bathroom. He then headed back to the dungeons with his Professor.

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[Dun dun dun..]