Chapter Seven:

Tap, Tap, Tap! An owl pecked at Elizabeth's window. Grumbling, she got out of her king-sized bed and walked to the large window. She got the letter from the black owl, went to her mahogany desk and opened the letter.

Dear Slytherin House Team,
We will see you in the Leaky Cauldron on the day of the friendly scrimmage at ten o'clock in the morning. That is fine that you choose Professor Snape as the referee, but if he makes a mistake, we will have spectators to correct him. Ron would like to tell you guys not to look like a piece of crap either. And don't worry; we have Quidditch practice robes in the color of our house for each and every one of us. See you at ten.
Sincerely,
Emma P. Black
Harry J. Potter
Ronald B. Weasley

Her eyebrows furrowed with every word. Her grey-blue eyes burned with rage.

"How dare they? How dare they insult us like this, with this mock letter? I will not take this!" Elizabeth whispered wrathfully.

Dearest Gryffindor Team,
I was surprised by your last letter. Your spectators will be happy to know that Professor Snape will not be making any mistakes; he is a qualified Quidditch referee, and all we can say is that we hope you all can stay on your brooms, because this might just be us, but we don't keep Mediwizards at our places of residence. I look forward to joining you tomorrow, and I will be glad to get this wretched mess over with so I can stop corresponding with you lot. I am sick of this! At least use proper grammar! Honestly, maybe you should all be instructed in Muggle grammar and literature.
Oh, by the way, I'm, not typically awake at two in the morning on Sunday nights. Also, your last letter made me very angry, and when I'm angry, I tend to take it out in Quidditch. I feel sorry for those who will be playing Chaser against me.
I sincerely hope that this letter wakes you up and your owl pokes the eyes out of a certain Ron Weasley.
Sleep tight,
Elizabeth M. Malfoy
"What's wrong, Beth?" Elizabeth whipped her head around to see Blaise standing behind her in black pajamas.

"Stupid letter sent by the stupid Gryffindors sent by a bloody owl at bloody two in the damn bloody morning!" Elizabeth hissed sleepily.

"Right, I'm a little afraid of you right now. Er, why don't you go to sleep now? I'll just send this, and I'll write my own reply, okay?"

"O-o-okay," Elizabeth said, interrupted by a large yawn. Blaise smiled.

"I'll take this back to my room now, alright?" Elizabeth yawned and nodded. "And I'll tell all of the damn Gryffindors how we feel, and I'll curse it and send it back, and then I'll join the Ministry and become a magical dancing hat- are you listening?" Blaise asked, but Elizabeth had already fallen asleep at her desk. "Oh, great. You couldn't have fallen asleep in your bed, so now I have to put you there. Peachy."
Blaise picked her up with ease, and walked to her bed, put her down and pulled the covers over her pale body.

"Nighty-night Beth."

Back in his guest room, Blaise looked at the Gryffindors had sent. He was amused at their bravery… to mock a Slytherin was not a thing to be taken lightly. He was equally amused that Elizabeth had gotten so angry with them. However, Blaise was often amused by things that would make other people cringe.

Gryffindors,
Congratulations! You have successfully managed to make my girlfriend thoroughly pissed. Thanks very much for your kind deeds. You know, I almost felt bad for a moment. But then I let the feeling of pity go. Personally, I wouldn't want to insult Elizabeth, (alright, sometimes I can't help myself), but I figure if you do, it's your funeral.
Draco is much closer to Elizabeth than I am, (logically), so I expect you'll be getting a letter from him too. I'm just the one whom Elizabeth woke up when your owl got her up at two AM.
Well, I suppose we should keep our emotions under guard until tomorrow, when we kick your red and gold asses in Quidditch.
Sleep tight,
Blaise V. Zabini

After writing, he sent both letters, and Blaise went to sleep.

"Beth! Elizabeth! Wake up!" Blaise said, snickering. She was always up first, so she could get ready. Now it was his turn to gloat. He leaned over and slapped her in the face.

"Huh- what?"

"Beth, it is 9:30 in the morning. We have to be there in twenty minutes."

"What! TWENTY MINUTES!" She raced out of bed into her closet room. Blaise chuckled and walked out of the room to Draco's room.

"She awake now?"

"Yes, and you're welcome."

In her closet room, Elizabeth ransacked through her clothes, looking for one of her nicer Quidditch robes. Finally she chose a green set with a silver clasp. She hurriedly put it on, and looked in the mirror.

"Puniceus labiae!" she said. Her lips now looked as if she had put on lip gloss. Smiling, she grabbed a brush and began to brush her wavy chestnut hair. After it was brushed free of knots, she braided it, so it wouldn't get in her face.

She dug behind her many clothes and grabbed her Firebolt Viridis. She walked to the rest of her House mates.

"Ready?"

Draco smiled his intimidating smile. "Let's go."

They sat at a table in the Leaky Cauldron. Blaise had his arm around Elizabeth's shoulder, and she was looking disgusted at all of the dirt and grime.

Besides Blaise and Elizabeth, Draco, Theodore, Crabbe, Goyle, and Malcolm Baddock were all present. Just as they were wondering where the Gryffindor team was, they entered, behind Harry, all dressed in maroon Quidditch robes looking very cinematic.

"Malfoy."

"Potter. How very nice of you to join us. You ready?"

"Perfectly. First, since we actually have manners, let's introduce each other. Malfoy, you know…" and Harry introduced everyone. He turned to Elizabeth. "Melanie Fudge, Elizabeth Malfoy."

"I know Elizabeth."

"Oh, yeah... I remember you. Draco and I met you at the Quidditch Cup. You were the bartender. Yeah."

"No, you just gave me your drink order." Elizabeth looked amused, on the other hand, Melanie was mortified.

"Yeah... and I'm still waiting for it," Elizabeth said, entertained.

"Right, umm, I think we should go ahead, follow us," said Harry, feeling the awkwardness of the situation.

"Blaise, tu mandare quello lettera?" said Elizabeth to Blaise in Italian.

"SØ, perch‚ vuole IO non?" Blaise replied.

"Non so. IO domandare se essi preso ."

"Probabilmente non. IO mandato lo troppo tardi."

"Bene , IO testamento giusto dovere risultare verso violenza verso risolvere mio rabbia rivista." Blaise laughed after Elizabeth said that.

Ahead of them, Emma turned to Hermione.

"Did you catch anything they just said?" Emma said, utterly perplexed.

"No. I know it was Italian, though."

"Right. Let's hope they all don't speak it, or we're all dead meat if they speak to each other like that on the field."

"I doubt it. Crabbe and Goyle are too stupid to speak a different language," said Hermione, laughing.