Once Christmas break was over, Severus and Alexis were

spending more time together than ever. Suddenly they were spending

hours down in the dungeons, working on spells and potions that, put

together, might destroy Voldemort. It wasn't until a few weeks

later, when Quidditch season had begun, that they both realized they

would soon have to participate in the faculty versus student

Quidditch match. Although Severus had groaned loudly upon the

reminder, Alexis said, "There's no way either of us can get out of

it. We're both Slytherins, so they'll need us on the team."

So for two weeks half of their time, (which could have

been better spent on "the Project" as they had deemed it,) was spent

practicing on the Quidditch pitch. As they both came to find out,

it was not actually a "Student versus Faculty" match, but more on

the lines of a "Students with Faculty on their teams try to beat

each other." Unfortunately, this meant that Draco Malfoy would be

the team Captain and Seeker; if there was anyone in their house that

they despised, it was definitely the son of Lucius Malfoy.

"Now," said Malfoy, "since this is a mixed group of us

working together, we'll need to rearrange the team positions." He

looked at his student and faculty teammates carefully, "Right then.

Bole, you're still Keeper. Ah...let's see...Pansy, you and Blaise

are two of the Chasers. Professors, did either of you play

Quidditch when you were in school?" he asked, almost too politely.

"No," they said in unison. "Ever play on your off-time? At all?"

Again, "No," was the unison answer. Malfoy's face contorted with

thought, "Well then, we'll just make you both Beaters."

Malfoy continued on rearranging the team as he saw fit,

and soon they were up on the pitch practicing. Every time Malfoy

said, "Ooh, nice shot Professor!" or "Good hit!" to one of them,

Severus and Alexis both gritted their teeth. Complements from

Malfoy smelled more like sulfur than roses. Luckily, practice

sessions went by quickly; every once in a while, Severus's thoughts

would drift to the Gryffindor team, wondering how they were holding

up with McGonagall and Hagrid. 'That oaf on a broom,' he thought

with a snort, 'as if it could hold him up.'

Finally, the Quidditch match arrived; Severus and

Alexis both wanted it to be over with quickly so they could return

to the dungeons, but they both had a whole day of matches ahead of

them.

The first match, Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw, went over

quite well, with Ravenclaw winning the match 280-70 points.

Professor Vector looked quite proud of herself flying around on her

broom, and the Ravenclaws cheered her on as she whooshed around the

stadium spectacularly. "Show-off," muttered Severus; Alexis hid a

smile from him upon hearing the remark.

The following match, Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor,

ended brutally with the Gryffindors pummeling them 490-40. The

Hufflepuff team sat down on the benches looking quite discouraged,

although Alexis saw it coming from a hundred miles away. Finally,

Slytherin would play against Ravenclaw, and Severus relished the

idea of beating Vector mercilessly.

Up in the air, Severus and Alexis defended their

teammates spectacularly, whilst Malfoy flew around pretending he was

king of the sky, once missing the Snitch because he was too busy

gloating. After that, however, he buckled down, and finally he

caught the Snitch half an hour later. The stadium applauded

politely, although they had clambered for the Ravenclaws earlier.

"It's tough being the hated house," said Alexis quietly as they

landed on the grass. Severus said nothing; he knew she was right,

but didn't want to admit it.

Next, the Gryffindors beat the Ravenclaws with vim and

vigor, the score finally ending 320-80. "Too bad Vector's such a

wuss," said Alexis in a whisper, "I can't believe she's crying!"

With Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw now out of the tournament, Gryffindor

and Slytherin were the only ones left. "How ironic," said Alexis as

they mounted their brooms, "that we should be playing our arch

rivals." "Not ironic, fitting," said Pansy Parkinson, smiling a

pug-nosed smile. Alexis smiled back politely, although on the

inside she was grimacing.

Once the whistle had blown, havoc broke loose; Potter

and Malfoy were zipping around the stadium at insane speeds, trying

to outdo the other. Severus and Alexis were trying to hold their

own against McGonagall and Ginny Weasley, who were both the

Gryffindor Beaters. Luckily, McGonagall had definitely lost some of

her old spryness, making it easier for them to hit the Bludgers at

the other Gryffindor teammates. The game continued on endlessly;

the first to score was Slytherin, but then Gryffindor picked it up

with two more goals.

Then Severus saw his opening, and he took it; the

Bludger hit Harry Potter like a freight train, and he almost fell

from the broom, but held on just barely. "Amazing shot by Professor

Snape!" cried the Quidditch commentator, "Wouldn't be surprised if

Potter feels that in the morning!" 'That was the idea,' thought

Severus with glee as he whizzed past the disoriented Potter.

The stadium began to buzz louder with noise as the

score got higher; soon they were 100-90, Gryffindor barely leading.

Someone had to end the game soon, or else they might be playing

through the night. Severus was racing to hit the next Bludger when

the other one suddenly bashed into his stomach; he let out a grunt

as he lost all his air and fell of his broom, hanging on by one

hand. For a moment he just sucked in air, then finally got back on

his broom. "You all right?!" shouted Alexis as she whipped past.

"Fine!" he shouted after her, coughing slightly as he continued with

the game. He looked around, wondering which of the Gryffindor

Beaters might have hit him, then noticed the little smile on Minerva

McGonagall's face. "Hilarious, Minerva!" he shouted as he dove past

her.

Just then, the stadium rocked as if a bomb had gone

off; Alexis lost her grip on her broom and almost fell, then luckily

grasped it tighter. Smoke and flame were all around them, and no

one could see in the thickening black billowing clouds. "Alexis!"

shouted Severus, "Where are you?!" "Over here!" she shouted,

coughing out the smoke as she climbed back on her broom. For what

seemed like an hour, there was pandemonium; the smoke covered the

ground so thickly no one could see, even in the stadium seats.

Severus and Alexis finally found each other, although Alexis was

beginning to suffer from smoke inhalation. "Let's go up! It's the

only way out!" said Severus as they began steering their brooms up

and out from the smoke. Finally they were high enough, (and now

freezing) that they could see.

"What the hell happened?" said Severus, looking down at

the smoking stadium; it looked as if it had been cracked in half by

some invisible force. "I...can't...guess," hacked Alexis; he turned

to her with concern, "Alexis?" The wind blew more smoke at them,

and suddenly Alexis lost her grip on her broom, falling to the

ground like a rock. Severus did a nose dive to the ground grabbed

her around the waist merely feet above the ground, suddenly glad he

wasn't as susceptible to smoke as she clearly was. Hoisting her

onto his broom carefully, he streamed over the ground, (only ten

feet up this time) heading toward the back of the stadium.

"Severus!" shouted someone; he turned to see

Dumbledore, waving a hand at him. "Albus!" said Severus, guiding

his over-weight broom toward him, "What in God's name is going on?"

Dumbledore, for the first time in a long time, looked angered,

"Someone released some sort of a Dark Magic bomb. The smoke is

refusing to clear, no matter what we do." Then, as if responding,

the wind suddenly picked up, and the black clouds separated until

eventually the smoke was gone. They both entered the pitch slowly;

most of the students had already cleared out of the stands, so

almost no one was there to see what was on the field. "Take her,

Albus," said Severus, removing Alexis from his broom.

He shot straight up into the air, then stopped after

one hundred and fifty feet, and looked down at the decimated

Quidditch pitch. The grass gone, only scorched earth left, one word

was etched into the ground in blackened letters.

TRAITORS