Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series.

Chapter 3
A Gryffindor's Woes

One could argue the best part of Hogwarts as a Muggle-raised witch was the grandeur of the castle or perhaps the mesmerizing magic you were likely to see every hall you go. Well, I dared to disagree.

There was nothing–and I meant, nothing–better than Quidditch season.

So imagine me on the day of the first Quidditch match of sixth year, jumping out of bed by seven o'clock sharp and donning full scarlet and gold just in time for breakfast. By the time I was pulling on my socks, Lacey was only just stirring out of sleep. I saw her peek groggily behind her curtains from the corner of my eye.

"What in Merlin's omnipotent name are you doing up before the sun?" she asked.

"You know for someone who acts like a caffeinated unicorn half the bloody time I expected more appreciation for life's most abundant source of energy," I said humorously, striding to her bedside and raising her curtains up in one swift pull. Lacey hissed dramatically at the sudden light burning her skin. "It's also fifteen past seven and the sun's already up, genius."

"Are you psycho?" Lacey groaned as she buried her face in her pillow. "Close the damn curtains!"

"It's the first Quidditch match of the season, Lacey!" I practically yelled in her ear. "Get your arse–"

A heavy thump on the back of my head cut the rest of my sentence off. I stumbled clumsily into Lacey's bed.

"One more bloody word, Dyer!" Polly Stiles' hoarse tone yelled from the other side of the room.

I threw a glare at her direction, picking up the pink hairbrush she threw my way. "Have you lot ever woken up for breakfast at all? Most important meal of the day? No? Doesn't ring a bell?"

But Polly's body had gone limp in a second and she was snoring away. Next to her, the third sixth year Gryffindor girl pulled her curtains up revealing the no less than utterly pissed off face of Becca Smith. Sandy curls a royal mess and lips in a threateningly thin line, she squinted at me.

"Has anyone ever told you how abysmally loud you are?"

I've had a few complaints but I certainly wasn't going to lower my voice for a bint like her. Her and Polly purposely tried to ruin my first few years in Hogwarts by being catty and mean. Up until my third year, they spread rumors about my fanatic love for Quidditch, telling everyone I stalked the Gryffindor players to their shower rooms and took pictures for my scrapbook.

By our fourth year they discovered dating, boys, and raging hormones so bullying became less of a priority. Nonetheless, there was always a brimming amount of tension between the three of us that even as mature sixteen year olds (or however mature sixteen year olds could get), we couldn't seem to move past it.

As Becca and I continued our stare off, Lacey next to me finally sat up with a groan and tugged at my arm.

"She's not worth it, Mon," she grumbled. "Now get off. I'm gonna hit the shower."

"About time!" I cheered, jumping off her bed and rummaged through my trunk for my scarf.

"Where's Alex?" Lacey asked as she gathered her toiletries.

"Probably already down with the rest of the team," I said. "She's usually up before me on match days."

"Thank Merlin," Lacey mumbled. "It'd be a nightmare if you woke up earlier than the players themselves."

Before I could retort, Lacey shut the door behind her, the sound of water running filling the room seconds later. Thankfully both Becca and Polly dozed off and I was bizarrely patient waiting for Lacey to finish getting ready. The day of a Quidditch match put me in a mood so good I didn't care about having to rush to breakfast because Lacey took her sweet time washing her hair.

The Gryffindor common room was already empty by the time we were rushing to the Great Hall and the hallways were no different. It was a surprise however that neither of the teams were present at breakfast by the time we showed up. The ecstatic buzz in the room indicated the excitement everyone felt for the teams to walk in and the game to start.

Lacey and I took our places by the far end of the Gryffindor table, most of the seats already occupied. There was a large space by the middle, reserved for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Opposite me, Lacey filled her plate with bacon and eggs but I continued to scan the seats down.

My eyes lingered on three familiar seventh years barking in laughter right next to the empty seats. Remus Lupin was talking animatedly with his hands making wild gestures about what seemed like a thrilling story. Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew were laughing almost out of their seats.

I bitterly frowned at the sight of them. Did they know how to do anything besides laugh?

"You could literally put Black in Slughorn's dress robes and I'd still stare at him all day," Lacey commented unabashedly.

I tore my eyes away from the trio and shot her a look. "Fit as he is, he's still a jerk."

"He was protecting his friend, Monica," Lacey said matter-of-factly. "Give him a break."

I softened, knowing full well she was right. It was unfair to judge any of them for that single night but it was hard to ignore them. Ever since that spectacle under the full moon, I encountered and noticed them more and more. It was frustrating to be constantly reminded of a huge secret that could put the entire student body of Hogwarts into panic if revealed. It was even more spine tingling that I was so close to being the first victim if it weren't for the three Gryffindor boys.

Suddenly the table erupted into cheers and I joined in almost immediately. They walked in as a group, James Potter leading as he received high fives and wishes of good luck along the way. Our roommate and Gryffindor Chaser, Alex Montgomery, strode confidently behind him, dark hair pulled back and eyes focused.

Next to her was Gryffindor's prized Seeker, Carter Robins, golden hair swept back and brown eyes twinkling in delight. His gait was strong and determined, clasping hands with fellow Gryffindors along the way. He received the same enthusiastic response from the crowd since he was easily Hogwarts' best Seeker (Well, Slytherins would have said Regulus Black but that was hardly relevant) and his easygoing humble personality only boosted his popularity.

Lacey was looking at me with a knowing weird look and only then did I realize I was smiling like a lovestruck idiot.

"Pathetic," Lacey said humorously.

"Shut up," I snapped.

As rudely mentioned by James Potter during our midnight spat after the full moon escapade, I typically showed up to Quidditch matches first. No matter how hard Lacey fought for her unfinished bacon and eggs, I wasn't giving in to anything for the best seats on the stands.

Half an hour before the match began, Lacey and I took our prime seats, three rows from the front and right at the center of the Gryffindor side. She chewed on a granola bar she managed to snatch before I pulled her out of the Great Hall and I sat on the edge of my seat, excitement in my veins.

"You know if I just knew how to ride a broom, I'd totally play Quidditch," Lacey said, admiring the view. "I can't believe Quidditch players get to fly through this weather!"

"They get to fly through heavy rains and snowstorms too," I deadpanned. "You should totally try out."

Lacey shot me a mocking smile.

"Just a suggestion," I muttered humorously.

"You're such a load of bollocks," Lacey said. "I know you'd play if you could."

Well, obviously.

"Debatable."

Lacey barked out a laugh.

"Sarcastic bint. When are you going to tell Carter Robins you want to rip his Quidditch robes off?"

I choked on my spit.

"Ooh, I hope it doesn't stop at that," an amused tone butt in.

Of all the possible scenarios Lacey decided to open her big fat gob, it just happened to be the exact moment Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew appeared on the stands behind them and took their seats.

Black was the one who spoke, gray eyes glinting and a smirk on his face. To his right was Lupin who quietly scanned the pitch, and to his left was Pettigrew who watched our exchange almost eagerly.

"Piss off, perv," I snapped at Black.

"Ouch," Black said, still smirking and not looking at all offended. "That's hardly the right way to treat strangers."

"Strangers who eavesdrop in private conservations, maybe," I said stubbornly.

"We were just taking our seats, enjoying the lovely weather!" Black said almost charmingly. "Just happened to overhear your pretty friend here."

I didn't want to see the look on Lacey's face, but I was pretty sure I heard a squeal somewhere there. Pathetic.

"Well, my friend can't seem satisfied without everyone within a hundred mile radius hearing her fat mouth go off," I spat.

Ignoring Lacey scoff "I do not!", I narrowed my eyes at Black, suspicious about his motives. He acted as if he only just met me and that was no surprise. I was expected not to tell anyone, even Lacey, about what happened and I suspected he was bothering me to find out if I met that expectation.

I didn't want to drag Lacey into the situation so I humored Black, regarding him with as little familiarity as possible. I knew once he found out Lacey knew everything they wouldn't get off my back so easily that time around.

Thankfully our dialogue was cut short when the students began piling up in the stands and the Marauders were greeted by boys and girls alike. I'd lost count how many people they clasped hands with and the number of girls that attempted to strike conversation. This obviously included the pair of bints, Becca and Polly, fully awake and faces caked with makeup.

Becca threw me a glare when she realized Black and his friends were sitting right behind us and there was no more space around the Marauders for them to sit. Not at all surprisingly, she used this as an opportunity to be nasty to me instead.

"Early to the match again, Dyer?" Becca said. "And I thought you grew out your stalkerish tendencies in fourth year."

Black's eyebrows shot up comically, Lupin looked uncomfortable, and Pettigrew snickered under his breath. I felt the rage build up in my veins but held myself back from clawing Becca's eyes out. I tried to look unamused. Judging by the calming look Lacey was giving me, I don't think I succeeded.

"You boys better be careful," Polly addressed the Marauders, unceremoniously swishing her brown hair like she had a neck problem. "Monica has some issues with personal space."

"You're hilarious, Polly," I spat. "Do you need an extra pillow tonight?"

Black unsuccessfully held in a snort. Lupin covered his face in an attempt to hide a smile. Polly immediately stopped her ridiculous hair flipping.

"You know I think I see a few empty seats over there," Lacey said, squinting at an vacant spot all the way at the end of the stands. "Do you two mind? As if you'd understand anything going on from here anyway. At least down there you'll have a great view of James Potter's arse."

Becca's lip curled as I barked out a laugh. Polly shot us both a look of absolute hatred before dragging Becca away. Lacey and I celebrated our internal wins with a high five.

"Wow," Black said, looking dazed. "They were mean."

"You sound surprised," Lupin said, contributing in the conversation for the first time. I turned to look curiously at him.

"I've never met them before."

"Are you kidding?" Lupin said, chuckling disbelieving at his best friend. "They spend half their time getting as close to you as possible. I used to tutor the blonde in Potions and when she wasn't asking me about you, she was trying to slip her hand in my trousers."

There was a range of reactions: Pettigrew cackled, Black roared in surprise, and Lacey and I groaned in disgust.

"It was nothing!" Lupin explained awkwardly. "She was just trying to get to Sirius through me!"

"A likely story, Moony," Pettigrew said humorously, patting him on the back.

Suddenly the light air disappeared between us. I was harshly reminded by the incident, triggered by Pettigrew's casual mention of Lupin's nickname. I caught Black's eye whose gray irises turned hard and I thought I saw him take a quick glance at Lacey.

Thankfully Lacey didn't seem like she noticed the sudden tension, humming quietly to herself and attention completely invested in the introduction of players. Though interestingly, Lupin didn't seem too bothered either.

"I'm Sirius Black, by the way," Black suddenly spoke after the stretch of silence. "This is Remus Lupin and that's Peter Pettigrew. I mean, if you didn't already know."

I wanted to scoff but curiously he didn't sound like he was bragging. It was a matter of fact, anyway, that they were the most popular boys in Hogwarts. It would have been laughable if we didn't know who they were.

"Lacey Fenwick, nice to meet you." Lacey held out her hand and Black shook it. "And well, this is Monica but I think–"

"Monica Dyer!" I butt in panickedly, vigorously shaking Black's hand and making a mental note to smack Lacey over the head after the game for her slip up.

Thankfully before Black could process any sort of suspicion, the commentator, Timothy Davies from Ravenclaw, began to introduce the Gryffindor Quidditch Team and the Gryffindors on the stands hopped up on their feet to cheer.

"Introducing Captain James Potter and his team, Montgomery, Kane, Gordon, Macmillan, Fredericks, and Brown!"

I whooped and roared at the sight of the Gryffindors circling the pitch on their brooms. James Potter handsomely waved as he passed our side, his team following behind him. I heard Sirius laugh and his voice boomed above the crowd.

"Hey, Evans!"

I jumped, spotting the addressee, who wasn't hard to pinpoint as she was the only one within a meter radius who wasn't screaming her lungs out. She was shooting a glare at Black, wavy red hair falling prettily down her shoulders but green eyes menacing.

"That was for you!" Black said gleefully, mocking Potter's wave.

Evans replied with an obscene hand gesture but Black continued to laugh.

"Hey, look at Carter," Lacey said, turning my attention back to the pitch. "He looks nervous, doesn't he?"

The teams were back on the grass as the captains shook hands. Carter Robins stood behind the rest, hand raking through his hair and eyes detached.

"He always looks like that before going against Slytherin," I said, not at all creepily (I hoped). "Regulus Black is the only Seeker who's beaten him since he joined the team. Carter's just got terrible luck."

"Slytherin did win the cup last year because Regulus beat him to the Snitch."

"That was totally not his fault!" I said heatedly. "Gryffindor's Chasers were as sloppy as Wendy's french fries. The only one who looked remotely upright was James Potter."

"I wish you stopped using Muggle references as if I understood them."

"And we're off!" Davies' commentating sounded as the Quaffle was thrown up and the game began.

Montague from Slytherin snatched the Quaffle first, connecting with his teammates through intricate passes before forcing the first save of the match. Theodore Fredericks confidently threw the Quaffle to Potter without failing to flash his middle finger at Montague.

"Not very professional by Fredericks," Davies said snootily, earning him a loud booing from the Gryffindor side. I screamed an array of curses, sick of his biased commentating.

As the match went on, it was particularly stressful. Both teams showed up big time and individual brilliance between the Chasers was minimal, both sets executing plays perfectly as single units. Yet even so, James Potter's talent still left spectators awestruck, considering he specialized in shooting that left Keepers completely dumbfounded.

I cheered with the rest of my house when Alex Montgomery and Harley Kane expertly dodged Bludgers as they passed the Quaffle like a hot potato between them and Potter acted as a decoy to the Beaters and the Keeper. Alex easily scored when the Keeper dumbly expected a last ditch reverse pass to Potter and at that moment Gryffindor led 60 to 50.

The game was half an hour in and neither Seeker seemed close to spotting the Snitch. The Chasers were still fully energized and the crowd was more than satisfied by the game play. I, personally, loved Chaser tactics and watching the six on the pitch was more enjoyable to me than any part of the game so I wasn't disappointed in the lack of action on the Seekers' part.

"Penalty, penalty! Are you fucking blind, Hooch?"

I cursed in frustration when Slytherin Chaser Magden's cobbling went unnoticed since Madame Hooch was too busy telling off their Keeper for attempting to save shots behind the hoops.

Nevertheless, it was an hour in and Gryffindor were leading 150 to 110. The Chasers were starting to get sloppy and plays were becoming repetitive. The Slytherins had begun to get rougher and the Gryffindors were suffering.

"Alex doesn't look too good," Lacey said worriedly as her eyes followed our roommate who clutched her side in clear pain.

"That's because Magden is a right arse," I said.

Magden's been rough with his elbows all throughout the match and was only given a warning once. Alex was definitely going to experience some bruising before she could get help from the hospital wing.

"You Slytherins are whack!" Black's booming voice roared from behind me. "Magden, man the fuck up and play some real Quidditch, why don't you?"

Before I could even laugh, angry Gryffindors followed in pursuit with their own trash talk. Soon the entire Gryffindor side was yelling and booing against Edison Magden.

"Yeah, last time I checked, Chasers use their hands, not their elbows!"

"Grow a pair, Magden!"

"Did your corrupt father teach you to hit girls?"

"He should've taught you to play Quidditch instead!"

I closed my eyes and breathed in. Music to my ears.

Suddenly somewhere along the trash talking, there was a sudden burst of speed by the Slytherin stands. Immediately catching the eye of everyone on the pitch, Regulus Black was chasing after the Golden Snitch and catching up impressively quick was Carter Robins. After a beat of shocked silence, both sides of the pitch exploded into cheers for their respective Seekers.

In short time, the Seekers were neck and neck and flew so close to each other they looked almost like a single entity. Both of their arms were outstretched, palms open. They took a sharp turn, following the oval pitch.

I took a few seconds gazing in awe at their perfect balance and technique. It was obvious why Seekers required a slim body type. It was similar logic to footballers. When you're smaller, you're typically faster, well-balanced, and coordinated. Being a Seeker was all about that.

"Come on, Robins!" Pettigrew cheered.

We all held our breaths when we saw a hand reach, unable to tell at that second whose it was. But when the hand enclosed the golden ball and Regulus Black abruptly halted his broom, the Slytherins leapt out of their seats and roared in victory. Carter Robins steadily flew down to the ground, face hidden in shame.

Heartbeat ringing in my ears and slouching in dejection, I watched the scene before me dumbfoundedly, unable to comprehend pretty much anything. James Potter threw his broom to the ground in frustration and Carter Robins darted straight to the shower.

Next to me, Lacey was speaking but I couldn't hear her too well. The only thing my brain seemed able to process was the disappointment. Everyone did their part, playing their absolute best, and clearly showing all three houses that Gryffindor, captained under James Potter for his last year at Hogwarts, was here to win.

Carter Robins, the boy I not so secretly fancied since third year, may have lost it for us.

I was going to vomit.

"Monica… Monica! Monica Dyer!"

Snapping out of my inevitable swirl into chronic depression, I finally turned my head to acknowledge Lacey.

"Will you stop being so overdramatic?" Lacey snapped. "It's literally the first match of the season!"

"We were so close!" I moaned. "I was so ready to wipe that bloody smirk off Magden's face."

"Ravenclaw will wipe it out for you," Lacey said, ever the optimist. "Anyway they got lucky!"

I sighed. "I'm not going to pretend Slytherin didn't play even remotely well. They were great until they decided to elbow Alex every chance they got."

"Actually, Slytherin won because Carter Robins has never beaten Regulus Black to Snitch," the quiet tone of Remus Lupin unexpectedly spoke up. He stood calm in between a dejected Black and a grumpy Pettigrew.

"But we won against Slytherin two years ago," I said.

"But Regulus caught the Snitch," Lupin said. "You ever notice Robins' demeanor is different before a Slytherin match? He doesn't think he can do it."

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't think it's fair to blame him. I mean everyone knows he's miles ahead of Regulus. He can catch the Snitch in twenty minutes against Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw."

"Don't get me wrong," Lupin said, a small smile on his face. "He's a fantastic player. I'm just inferring his bad streak against Regulus messes up his head and maybe that's why he underperforms during matches against him."

I blinked, considering Lupin's statements. It did make sense and I wondered why I never thought of it that way. I always saw Carter as someone who was so invested in Quidditch that his losses could be nothing but due to bad luck. Even the best sportsmen in the world experienced bad games here and there, but when they shone, it was extraordinary.

I guess I overlooked the human part of it all. Carter was capable of being nervous, even to the point that the disbelief he had in himself ruined his game.

"Wow, Moony, I didn't think you were such a Quidditch fanatic," Black chuckled.

"I don't go to Quidditch matches just to fawn over Prongs," Lupin said jokingly.

I abruptly shifted away from them, Lupin's light brown eyes seeming familiar almost. It was so unfair to associate him to something he couldn't control and act like he even lay a finger on me, but it was like I couldn't help it. Being around him was fairly easy but any mention that could relate to that night was spine tingling enough to get uneasy in his presence.

Lacey cleared her throat and I wondered if she felt the same way. I sincerely hoped not.

"Come on, Mon. Let's head to lunch," she said.

I silently nodded in response and watched as she took a step down the stands. Before I moved to follow, Lacey suddenly fell flat on her face on the step she took. I gasped and whirled around, confirming the only possible culprits.

Most of the Gryffindors had decided to sulk over lunch in the Great Hall so it wasn't hard to spot the pair of psychotic bints at the far end of the stands, Becca looking amused with her wand out and Polly laughing outright.

"Girls are brutal," Black said, looking unamused by the blatant bullying.

"They're pure evil," I snapped angrily, turning back to help my best friend.

Lupin beat me to it, however, already reaching out to help her up. Then suddenly, very uncharacteristically, a wave of what looked like fear washed over Lacey's pained expression and she flinched away from the helping hand.

Blood rushed up to my cheeks and I dared to glance at Black. Unsurprisingly his eyes darted furiously from Lacey, who was only realizing her mistake, to me with blatant distrust in his vicious look.

Again, when I thought my days couldn't possibly get worse, this happened.

A/N

Not sure how to feel about this chapter. I'd love to know what you all think.

-Finner

PS- I hope you understood what happened at that last part, but the next chapter should explain it anyway. Haha.