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Of Earth and Stars

Chapter 15: A Play, the Responses, and Revenge

November 1990 - February 1991

**Third Year**

"Welcome to the first game of the season, Gryffindor vs Slytherin! I'm your announcer Lee Jordan, and I am proud to introduce to you...GRYFFINDOR!"

The stadium erupted into cheers when Gryffindor flew onto the field, a block of red and gold.

"Last year Gryffindor was led to House Cup victory by their captain Charlie Weasley. This year, with bittersweet support, Gryffindor is led by its new captain Oliver Wood. We are expecting some great things from Wood! Also, new to the team this year and coming in as beaters are Fred and George Weasley! Let me tell you, our rivals are in for a hell of-"

"Mr. Jordan!"

"Sorry McGonagall, this is my first time announcing, and I didn't know I couldn't say hell—sorry! The Weasley twins are sure to give everyone a run for their galleons! And finally, for the sake of sportsmanship, Slytherin. They have some new people too, I guess-"

"Lee, if you can't be unbiased, you will no longer be announcer!"

Slytherin, led by Marcus Flint, shot into the sky before Gryffindor got into position. No matter how many times she did it, Suri never grew tired of the feeling of soaring through the air far above the ground. After their lap around the field, she pulled her broom to a halt on Marcus's left side.

Oliver glanced at her, and Suri gave him a nod. He quickly returned it with one of his own. The last time she had played against him was around the same time last year when she debuted in her first game. Slytherin was in the lead until Charlie Weasley caught the snitch in Gryffindor's undefeated season.

"Captains, shake hands," Madame Hooch, dressed in the customary black and white of referees commanded.

Oliver and Marcus tightly gripped each other's hands as though attempting to break them.

"Keepers, to your places."

"Keep the bludger away from me this time, Avery," Suri teased before she flew to her post.

"I'm only helping you stay alert!" Nate called with a chuckle.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and tossed the quaffle into the air.

"Gryffindor takes control of the quaffle, and oh! What a tackle from Slytherin, those...people." Lee noticed McGonagall glare at him. "But look! Gryffindor was able to recover the quaffle and they are racing toward the goal!"

Suri locked in on the player racing toward her, mimicking her flying movements. When Gryffindor's chaser, Katie Bell, got close enough, she aimed. The quaffle shot out of Bell's hand and Suri knocked it away with her broom, making it go into the arms of Michael Polley who caught it easily.

Michael zoomed toward Oliver and his shot was also blocked. Suri groaned with the rest of Slytherin's supporters.

The first ten minutes of the game continued in the locked stalemate with neither team able to score.

"Charlie Weasley sees the snitch! Oh, so does Colin Bledsoe! Now it's a race to see who gets it first! Alicia Spinnet has control of the quaffle and she is racing toward Slytherin. The beaters are locked in a match with the bludgers, and they look like they're out for blood."

Suri watched as Nate cracked a bludger far away from her and she breathed a sigh of relief. It gave her time to focus on Alicia.

Once close enough, Alicia threw the quaffle toward the middle hoop and Suri reached out for it with her left hand. At the same time the second bludger came flying toward her, and connected with her arm.

Suri cried out in pain, and cradled her left arm to her chest. "Alicia Spinnet scores, and Slytherin is down! Gryffindor is there to recover the quaffle! With Slytherin's keeper, Suri Rosier-Black, out of the game, this game might as well be over! Sucks to be you, Slytherin!"

Sure enough, a second Gryffindor chaser raced toward the posts just as Suri began to lower her broom. Pride got the best of her, and biting her lip, Suri spurred her broom back into the air, her arm throbbing with white-hot pain.

"Rosier-Black is back in the game! She's clearly injured, but the girl deserves points for pressing on! Someone should really take a look at her arm, though." Lee announced.

She saw the quaffle aimed at the goal post furthest from her. With a groan, she raced at full speed to make it in time. She had no choice but to use her injured arm. Resting her hurting arm on her broom for balance, she reached for the quaffle with her good arm and tucked it to chest. Her save made her lose her balance and the broom lurched forward.

Suri let out a gasp that was a mixture of fear and pain. She bit her tongue so hard to keep from crying out she tasted blood. Her broom launched forward and downward. To save herself from falling over the front of her broom, Suri made her broom flip in the air, and righted her balance. Pushing the sweat and hair out of her eyes, Suri felt as though she would pass out.

"Rosier-Black struggles to regain her balance and she doesn't look so good. Charlie Weasley and Colin Bledsoe are battling for the snitch still! Someone catch it so the girl can leave the game!"

"What the hell was that," Marcus yelled, flying over to Suri.

"I can't play anymore," Suri yelled back.. Her cheeks were red with the shame of letting her captain see her cry. "It hurts too much."

"The game isn't over until the snitch is caught, get back to the posts!"

"Marcus—"

"Now, Rosier-Black!" Marcus demanded before he sped back into the game.

Several feet away Nate whistled and caught Suri's attention. He mouthed something to her, probably asking if she was alright. Suri shook her head once and flew back to the posts.

The pain in her arm throbbed so much it made her dizzy, and Suri missed two goals in a row. She had never wanted a game to end as much as she did now.

"CHARLIE WEASLEY CATCHES THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

Cheers erupted throughout the stadium, but they sounded muffled in Suri's ears as she lowered her broom to ground and lined up with her team to shake the hands of Gryffindor's team.

"Good game, good game," each player wished as they tapped hands. Suri could only nod and hope she managed a smile instead of a grimace. She didn't notice when Fred Weasley mumbled an apology for the bludger he had hit that might have been the cause of her injury.

Marcus sneered at Oliver; he didn't shake any Gryffindor's hand. Oliver stood taller, squaring his young shoulders though he was still shorter than Marcus. "You should check on your keeper. She's hurt."

"If you ask me, she deserves it. A good keeper wouldn't have gotten injured."

Nate, who stood behind Marcus in the line-up looked back at Suri, and either she didn't hear or she pretended not to.

"Flint," it was Michael Polley who spoke up. "Suri's hurt pretty badly, you should have let her off the field."

"Are you captain, Polley?" Marcus turned on his heel and walked up to Michael. Though Michael was two years older than him, both Flint and Polley were the same height.

"It's just a game, Flint. We all wanted to win-"

"I asked you a question," Marcus said. "Are you captain?" Marcus scoffed when Michael didn't respond.

"I thought so, Polley."

"Suri, I'll take you to the hospital wing." Michael stalked over to Suri, his expression vexed at Marcus's entitlement.

"I'm coming too," said Nate, putting a hand on Suri's back as he guided her off the field.

"I can walk, you know, it's just my arm," Suri murmured, looking at her feet. "I can walk there myself."

"Whatever, kid. You should have been off the field before the game ended." Michael patted the top of her head rather awkwardly.

"And you can't get rid of me," said Nate, earning the smallest of smiles from her.

"Trust me, I've tried."

Once in the hospital wing, Nate and Michael sat on a cot opposite of Suri while Madam Pomfrey expertly wrapped Suri's arm.

"I guess that means no volunteering in here for a while," Suri joked, watching the way Pomfrey rolled the bandage around her arm.

"Absolutely not, I won't have you clumsily knocking into things with only one arm. There." Pomfrey pulled her wand out of her apron and tapped Suri's arm. The bandages around it immediately began to puff up and harden.

"Also, no quidditch for two weeks until the cast comes off. Your arm was broken in two places, and the potion managed to heal your bones to a fracture instead of a complete break."

Suri thought back to the potion that tasted like salamander bogeys and shivered. "Two weeks? But I need to practice!"

"You need to heal, Miss Rosier-Black." Pomfrey sighed at the boys across from her. "Get off from the cot you too. These beds are only for the injured." Michael and Nate immediately jumped to their feet.

Suri stood too. "Any chance of this healing faster?"

"A healing spell wouldn't work on your breaks," said Pomfrey, "so this is the next best option. Remember to keep the bandages dry."

"You guys really didn't have to stay," Suri said as she walked back to the dormitories with Michael and Nate.

"I can't believe Marcus didn't come by," Nate shook his head and Michael made a noise of disgust.

"I wouldn't have wanted him to come by."

"What he said about you wasn't right either. You're a great keeper." Nate was on a roll. His hazel eyes burned with anger. "Who does that mountain troll think he is? If he was the one with the broken arm, he would be writhing on the ground crying."

"You are incredibly passionate about my arm," Suri waved her injured arm in front of Nate's face. "My arm and I will survive, Nathaniel. Don't worry."

"Avery is right, kid," Michael added. "You're a great keeper."

"That's only because you took my spot as a chaser. I should have knocked you off your broom during tryouts last year." Suri rolled her eyes when Michael ruffled her hair. She spent the first two games of her second year upset that Michael was was selected to be a chaser instead of her. Then she got to know him and realized he wasn't that bad of a person. He could be oafish at times, but he was a force on the field. Michael also treated her like a sister once they warmed up to each other and that was always nice.

"You wouldn't have been able to," Michael laughed. "You're tiny."

"I might be short, but I'm mighty."

"I won't argue with you there, kid."

Nate watched the exchange with narrowed eyes.

"Sacred Twenty-Eight," he grumbled the password to the painting that separated them from their common room.

"I can't wait to shower," Suri sighed as the finally entered the common room. She frowned with disgust as both Michael and Nate sat on the leather couch in front of the fire, still in their quidditch gear.

Nate leaned forward and stared directly into the fire. "You know, Gryffindor has a couple new players this year. They deserve a proper welcome."

"The Weasley twins?" Michael raised a blonde eyebrow at Nate. He must have noticed the gleam in Nate's eyes, because he then smiled wickedly.

"Whatever it is you're planning, Avery, count me in."

"Count me out," Suri laughed and walked away from the boys. "We lost fairly. Getting hurt in quidditch happens."

Nate and Michael ignored her as they bent their heads together to whisper conspiratorally. Nate's fair skin was flushed red, and it wasn't quite clear if this was from the fire or his company.

After her shower, Suri found the boys sitting in front of the fire still—but they had at least changed out of their quidditch robes. They were also now joined by their teammates. Nate animatedly told the team his plan when Marcus looked up the staircase and noticed Suri.

"Rosier-Black!" Marcus called as he jumped off the couch and walked over to her. He glanced at her arm with a judgmental eyebrow. Suri refrained from sneering at him. She knew if this were his injury, he'd be lamenting to anyone who'd listen.

"How long are you out for," asked Marcus.

"Two weeks. I'd have to miss practice, but at least I won't miss a game."

"I'd rather you miss practice than a game, but I've been thinking since our loss today," Marcus admitted, touching his chin thoughtfully.

"I'm glad there's been one positive outcome," said Suri, and her comment went right over Marcus's head as he prattled on.

"You weren't fast enough to dodge the bludger."

"I w-wasn't fast enough…?" Suri sputtered. "You're saying it's my fault my arm broke?"

"If you were faster, you would have dodged it," Marcus continued. "And the only way to be faster is to either get a faster broom—and you already got that—or be lighter to increase speed."

Suri felt blood rush to her cheeks as she followed where Marcus was going. When she spoke, she fought to keep her tone controlled. "What exactly are you suggesting, Flint?"

"I think you need to lose a few pounds these next to weeks and consider that training," Marcus said bluntly. His grey eyes raked up her body in the most unsettling way.

"You've put on some weight, Rosier-Black. I didn't want to say anything, but it's effected your performance, so I'm saying this as your captain."

"You want me to lose weight these next two weeks."

"About ten pounds should do it, the team would do best with less fat and more muscle," Marcus continued, not catching the deadness in Suri's voice. "Does this sound reasonable."

"Less fat more muscle," Suri echoed and gave Marcus a falsely bright smile. "I can do it."

"Good, because I hope there won't be any more repeats of your injury." Marcus smirked at her before he rejoined the team.

After he left, instead of joining her team, Suri headed up to her bed, uninterested in being around people. Though it was still early, she sat on her bed and drew her curtains around her to block out the world. For a minute she stared at her stuffed wolf, affectionately named Uncle, and bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

Reaching under her t-shirt, Suri touched her midsection that rolled over the waistband of her jeans. She thought of her friends Carly Davis, Mara Selwyn, and Gemma Farley and doubted any of them had to deal with stomach rolls. She felt a mixture of shame and anger. In a way, she knew Marcus was right—she had gained weight over the summer and it was just as frustrating then. She had no idea why she gained weight, she practiced every day and limited her dessert intake, and tried every trick in the book she knew to keep the weight off, and still she was heavier than she'd ever been.

A fat tear fell from her grey-blue eyes and plopped onto her knee. Suri wiped angrily at her face, but she knew it was no use. Once her tears came, there was no stopping them. She hated herself for struggling with her weight. And she hated Marcus Flint too, for confirming her fears.

X

The next few days passed in a fog, and Suri was consistently hungry and she had a constant headache. She skipped all desserts and restricted her meals to miniscule proportions. She hoped a weekend with her friends at Hogsmeade would get her mind off of the things she couldn't eat.

"Let's go to Honeydukes, I heard there's new taffy flavors there!" Carly tugged on Mara's arm and propelled her forward.

"I've been wanting some chocolate frogs for a while," Nate said and followed after them. He glanced back at Suri who remained rooted to her spot. "Coming, Suri?"

"Er, I don't think so. We're still going to The Three Broomstick right? I'll get us a table there."

Nate gave her a strange look. He gave her a lot of those since she started her diet. Suri smiled at her and pointed over her shoulder at the pub. "It's going to be packed in there! You'll thank me when we have a table."

"I'll go with you," Willem Thorne volunteered. "The smell of Honeyduke's gives me a headache."

"You're such a bore, Willem," Carly rolled her eyes. "Order me a butterbeer! I'll be there soon!"

"Make that two," Mara called.

"Three," Nate shouted and ran after the girls.

Suri and Willem walked past several shops to get to The Three Broomsticks that chilly November afternoon. The bell above the door chimed when they arrived. Willem let out a low whistle.

"It was a good call to come here and find a table, it's packed!"

"Oh, there's a booth in the back corner! Quick!" Suri and Willem laughed as they raced to the booth.

"I win!" Suri slid into the booth first, and Willem groaned as he sat across from her.

"That's only because you're not very tall and can easily slide past people!"

"You're a sore loser." Suri laughed when Willem stuck out his tongue.

"I'm going to go get those butterbeers, do you want one?"

She could practically taste the warm, frothy sweetness, but instead she declined with a shake of her ehad. "I'm going to skip butterbeer today. Can you get me a tea, please?"

"Four butterbeers and one tea coming up."

While she waited, Suri shrugged off her thick winter robe and took off her gloves, settling into the booth. She looked at her cast, and anxiously counted down the days before it would come off—just one more week.

"Suri?"

Suri looked up from her arm and at her visitor. "Oliver! Hello."

Oliver smiled at her and looked at her empty booth. "Are you here by yourself?"

"No. Willem is getting our drinks and the others are coming soon. You?"

"No, my friends are over there," Oliver pointed across the pub, "I just needed to use the loo. How's your arm?"

"Peachy."

"The Weasleys feel really bad about that one," said Oliver. "It was their first game, so they're a bit...they're a bit like human bludgers themselves."

"Pft, don't worry about it," Suri toyed with her mother's necklace around her neck. "That's quidditch, injuries happen. They only feel bad because I'm a girl. If it were anyone else on my team, I'm sure they wouldn't think twice. Besides, Flint seems to think it's my fault that I got hurt anyway."

"He does?" Oliver folded his arms over his chest, his eyebrows knitted together with concern. "How so?"

Suri mentally kicked herself. She shouldn't be telling Oliver these things, especially since he was her rival team. But the way he looked at her made her feel like she could say anything and he'd still think of her in a nice way. "Marcus seems to believe I wasn't fast enough on the broom. He seems to think if I weighed less, I wouldn't have this cast."

"That's the dumbest thing I've heard! If you were any lighter, you'd be better suited as a seeker! No one could have dodged that bludger and catch the quaffle at the same time. Does he have you on some sort of diet?"

When Suri remained quiet, Oliver grew even more exasperated.

"I won't say anything against your captain—"

"Oh please do. I do it all the time."

"—But making you diet is the wrong call. You're built to be a keeper."

"I…" Suri frowned. "I don't know if that's an insult or not."

"It's not, I promise." Oliver sighed, and Suri couldn't help but notice how his cheeks grew pink.

"A keeper should look like you. You aren't very tall, which gives you the advantage of gravity and balance. That helps you do the crazy stunts you do as a keeper. If you were any smaller, you'd be best as a seeker. Any bigger, you'd be a beater because your strength would be necessary to keep bludgers away from your team. If you were taller, you'd be a great chaser. You're fine the way you are, Suri, honestly."

Oliver had an almost maniacal look in his dark eyes as he talked about quidditch bodies, but Suri hung onto his last words. She looked down at her hands on the table. "Er, thanks, I guess."

"As a captain…" Oliver trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck, as if unsure whether to give her advice or not. "I would say, continue to focus on your technique over your body. At the end of the day, anyone can play in any position as long as they're good. You're good, Rosier-Black, okay?"

"Okay," Suri answered, she feared what Oliver might say if she disagreed with him. She was almost certain he would go into a history of quidditch rant.

"Oi! Suri!"

Along with Willem, Nate, Carly and Mara walked up to the booth carrying a mug of butterbeer. Mara passed Suri her tea.

"I should probably get going," said Oliver, offering the slightest nod to Suri's friends. He eyed her bland beverage of choice now that he knew about her diet.

"Cheers," Suri saluted him with her tea, her eyes unfathomable as he walked away.

"What was that all about," asked Mara, licking the butterbeer froth from her upper lip.

"He was checking on my arm. Apparently the Weasley Twins feel bad about it."

"They'll have their moment," Nate promised, sipping thoughtfully on his drink. "It's coming."

"What's coming?" Suri warmed her fingers on her warm mug, trying hard not to be envious of her friends' drinks. She knew if she had a butterbeer, they would all be in a competition to see who had the best froth mustache.

"We have a plan for Gryffindor. We just need to fine-tune it. We're going to hex their brooms."

"That could be dangerous," said Willem, shaking his head.

"We aren't going to kill them. I'm not a monster. Just a small hex, whenever they turn right, their broom will go left and such."

"Confundus charm," Suri answered, sipping on her tea. When she looked up, she found all of her friends looking at her. "What?"

"Confundus only works on people, right?"

"No, it can also be used on inanimate objects, and it can be done nonverbally, but it's tricky to master."

"Why do you know so much about this charm," Mara quirked a pale eyebrow.

"You guys should know about it too. We learned about it during that bit in Defense Against the Dark Arts about dueling from Professor Lovelace. She said there are two rules of dueling: one, always have the quickest hand. Two, when in doubt, use the Confundus Charm. It's a shame her parents got ill and she had to leave to care for them. She was brilliant."

"Could you do it then? The Confundus Charm?" Nate leaned forward, his eyes intently focused on Suri.

"I'm sure I could, charms work is easy for me. Why are you so interested in this, Nate? You've never been so serious about a prank."

Just then the bell chimed, signaling new patrons in the pub. Michael Polley walked in with his seventh year friends. Nate immediately looked down at his mug.

"No special reason, Rosier-Black. None at all."

X

February 1991

"GO GO GRYFFINDOR! GO GO GRYFFINDOR!" The stadium collectively groaned when Oliver Wood failed to block a quaffle. Slytherin and Hufflepuff cheered.

"It's like Wood's never played before," Nate smirked mischeviously.

"I regret teaching you that charm," Suri said into Nate's ear so no one around them heard. She winced as Oliver tried to steer his broom left, and his broom kept going right.

"Don't worry, he'll be fine."

"He'd better be." Suri frowned Oliver struggle to regain control of his charmed broom. He wasn't the only one struggling. Nate had managed to cast the charm on one of the Weasley's broom as well.

"Hufflepuff is in the lead by thirty points," Lee Jordan announced, and Slytherin started their chant.

"CHOKE CHOKE GRYFFINDOR, CHOKE CHOKE GRYFFINDOR!"

"Oh thank Merlin, Wood finally seems like he's getting it. I was beginning to worry about his ability to even read a book."

"Stop that, I'm sure Oliver's smart," Suri defended, her eyes trained on Oliver. He gingerly navigated his broom in reverse, finally figuring out how to work against the charm.

"Whatever you say." Nate groaned when Hufflepuff failed to block Gryffindor from scoring.

"Finally! Hufflepuff sees the snitch! Will they manage to catch it in time?!" Announced Lee Jordan

The stadium erupted into cheers and shouts again. Hufflepuff's seeker raced across the field after the snitch, and Charlie Weasley sped after him. The Weasleys and Oliver continued to struggle with their brooms.

"I can't watch this anymore," she murmured. She covered her mouth and uttered a counter-charm. Oliver's broom seemed to shake violently in his hands and he gripped it tightly to keep from falling off. From the bleachers, it looked as though he swore just as Lee Jordan announced:

"Hufflepuff catches the snitch! HUFFLEPUFF WINS!"

Slytherin cheered loudly and high-fived each other. "We're in the last game!" Suri shouted excitedly, and her stomach released its knots. They needed Hufflepuff to win, because that tied Slytherin and Gryffindor with one loss each—making them the top teams for the Inter-House Quidditch Cup.

"I assume that was you're doing, Avery," Michael Polley asked as they left the stadium.

"I had some help to perfect the charm, but yes."

"Nice going," Polley slapped Nate on the back.

"Hey, Rosie!"

Suri turned at the sound of the name she hated so much. It was, of course, Fred and George Weasley, and they didn't look happy. She waved off Michael and Nate, promising to catch up with them later.

"Fred. George," Suri answered. "What do you want?"

"Touché" said George.

"Pardon?"

"You charmed my broom, and by the looks of it, Wood's too."

"You're blaming me for your poor flying today? That's nice."

"Your team had a lot riding on this game. You needed us to lose." Fred said irritably.

"Not to mention, you're still mad about your broken arm." This was George. Though they generally had a love-hate relationship, Suri knew the Weasley twins were livid with her, believing that it was her and not Nate who cast the Confundus Charm.

"Please. My arm healed a long time ago, and the only grudge I hold is against Professor Snape, but only because he started it. Gryffindor is the least of my worries, Weasels."

"I almost believe you." George narrowed his eyes. "But you're the only one on your team with enough talent to cast any sort of charm for a duration of the match."

"I'm flattered that you think so highly of me, but I'm not the only one on my team who can cast a Confundus Charm…oops, I've said too much." Suri's tone dripped with sarcasm.

The Weasley twins glared at her before they bent their heads together in a private conference. She heard something about "telling the truth" and "Slytherin scum". Navigating through their minds, she found that they wanted to believe her, but her Slytherin loyalties made them doubt her.

As subtly as possible, Suri attempted a new legillimency trick she had learned. In George's mind, she pulled up the memory of them talking outside of their library, when they thanked her for her mother's work.

"If you didn't cast the charm, you know who did. You're protecting a friend." said George as the twins turned to her.

Suri faked a yawn to suppress a surprised smile. Her trick worked. "Now you sound paranoid, and I don't have time for conspiracy theories. See you around, Weasels."

With her back turn, she heard one of them call after her. "Well-played, Rosie, but this is far from over!"

She turned back to the Weasley twins and winked at them. "Blame me all you want, Weasels, but you know I don't care enough to jinx a broom. For the kings of all things prank related, you sure aren't very receptive when the tables are turned."

Author's Note:

JUST IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW: the last chapter still took place in Suri's second year. This is her third year now. Also, I think we have just one more quidditch heavy chapter after this. Thanks for reading! I honestly love writing.

Your reviews are love!

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