Chapter Nine:
The Quidditch match was… actually pretty exciting.
It was cold, the wind picking up almost the second Madame Hooch threw the Quaffle in the air, causing a stinging sensation in what I knew was pink blotches on my cheeks. However the unpredictable weather didn't stop the hordes of blue and bronze descending on the stands around me.
Squinting against the gusts I tried to make out the reason behind my current predicament. But the brooms were moving too fast to what I was used to. I could count on one hand the amount of matches I'd attended both in and out of Hogwarts – both of which I'd brought a novel to read discreetly in the back rows.
One again, I cleverly decided against this option.
"There," a voice said beside me, only just loud enough to hear over the shouts and cheers surrounding us. I followed Isobel McDougal's out-stretched finger to a blue-robed player moving high above the others. I could just make out Michael scanning the field for a flash of gold.
"Thanks," I threw a tentative smile her way. I'd quickly decided that she was the preferred of Michael's group. Not overly loud but friendly enough to guide me amongst the rest of his friends towards the pitch about an hour previously. She included me without any awkwardness, without making it clear that she was only doing it because Corner had asked for which I was grateful.
She had long, poker-straight brown hair, braided to fall between her shoulder blades. Her cheeks looked frost-bitten like my own but there was an excitement in her dark eyes which prevented her from looking like an ordinary brown hair and eyed girl. On further inspection I noticed she had a second scarf – her own wrapped tightly around her neck – folded over her hands. Going on instinct I spoke up again, the match momentarily forgotten.
"Are you planning on wearing that?" I asked, feeling my eyebrows rise.
She blushed, the pinkness spreading to her temples. "Michael gave me his. Just in case you – well. You don't have to, it was wrong of him to presume –"
So quickly that she stopped mid-sentence I unwound my own neckwear, stuffing it into the large pockets of my winter robes before gently snatching the blue and bronze wool from her hands. Replacing it quickly I returned my attention to the game, though returned my gaze after feeling her surprised eyes unmoving from my face.
"It makes sense," I explained unabashed. "Now everyone knows who I'm supporting, right?"
I only just caught her grin as she turned away from me.
Strangely enough, I actually found my full attention was caught entirely on the match soon after. The rivalry between the crowd around me and the swarm of yellow and black in the stand across was stifling. I could feel every intake of breath and cheer through my entire body and soon I found myself joining in with them. Once I did that I was enveloped in waves after waves of pats on the backs, nudges, high-fives and fist-pumps from the people around me, Corner's circle of friends or not.
I'd blended in with my surroundings using a completely different tactic to what I was used to.
"The Seekers have seen the snitch!"
The Irish brogue of Seamus Finnegan caused all eyes to instantly move from the Quaffle. The match was too close, ten point's separated the teams with Hufflepuff nudging in front. Every single person knew the match would be taken by the Seekers. Tom Summerby and Michael Corner moved so fast they blurred into a blue and yellow streak across the Quidditch pitch. The snitch couldn't be seen by the crowds but from the placement of their fixed gazes I'd have said they were within ten feet of it and gaining fast.
"Come on, come on," I breathed, barely even noticing that I'd said the words out loud. A sudden change in direction had the pair close enough that I could make out Michael's face. His dimples had vanished, his blue eyes piercing in complete concentration. It was only the barest glimpses before they tore away. The volume escalated around me, the army of blue rushing to cheer on their seeker. Everyone – including myself – was on their feet.
Suddenly, they dived and I felt everybody push forward, the two boys rushing to meet the sand at the most terrifying speed, a chorus gasps, some in awe but most in fear ensued and I felt the magnetic pull as everyone in the stands leant on each other for support or for a better view or both. Their angles changed, arms stretched forward –
Both bodies hit the sand. Each rolling and skidding across for at least ten yards. Breaths held and held longer. The wind seemed to die in that moment as we waited for movement, a groan, anything.
Summerby didn't move.
Michael did.
He leapt up, his fist pounding the air before leaving it raised and it seemed to only sink in six seconds later that –
My eardrums erupted.
Not just from Isobel and Anthony Goldstein's screams but my own and on realising that I laughed, allowing myself to get hugged – hugged by mere strangers around me. I was shocked, traumatised but beautifully breathless as I bellowed my congratulations to the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.
It had to be the most strangest experiences of my life.
Quite willingly I allowed myself to be led out of the stands and back towards the castle. Laughing and listening intently to retellings of the match despite seeing it for my own eyes moments previously. Before I knew it I'd been dragged into the castle and towards the staircase. It was only then that spatial awareness began to kick in.
"Crap I don't think –" I tried to move out of the river of bodies but was easily boxed in by the familiar group of Ravenclaws, their previous awkwardness abandoned.
"Don't worry about it!" Isobel yelled over the noise of the crowd. "With that scarf on and this many of us flooding into the Common Room, there's no way Flitwick will notice you."
"Besides," Anthony added on my other side. "Michael will kill us if we let you leave before he gets back."
I'd stupidly forgotten that they all knew the reason behind my presence here and felt my face grow hot. The rise in temperature unaided by the scarf I suddenly had to keep on.
We poured into the Ravenclaw common room, the bronze raven knocker allowing us all through without pause. I was grateful to not have my intellect tested, my mind already reeling at being accepted so quickly.
I couldn't help but gawk at the interior. The domed ceiling painted near-black with shining white stars mirrored by the midnight blue carpet below. Arched windows adorned blue and bronze silk curtains, adding a softness most definitely absent. Almost the moment we sat into the plush armchairs I was handed a plastic cup full to the brim with blue liquid.
"Do I want to know?" I eyed the suspicious drink, directing the question at my brown-haired companion.
"Not exactly…" The words sounded almost like a question. Her tone perked up then. "Potions we all excel at. Concocting alcoholic beverages… not so much."
"Great." I couldn't drop my enthusiasm however as it seemed to pour into me from the walls. Taking a deep breath I gulped near to half the cup. Surprised that it wasn't at all bad.
"Well?" Isobel hedged.
"I've had far worse," I chuckled before holding my drink out to touch it against hers. "To Ravenclaw then."
The mood was infectious, the blue concoction flowing and half an hour later myself and Isobel were chatting as if we were life-long friends.
"No seriously," she giggled. The sound light as I took another cup from the tray beside me. "You're nothing like I thought you'd be."
"You expected me to be cold, calculating, manipulative and just waiting for the chance to hex you all the first chance I got?" There was no venom to my words, just light teasing and curiosity.
"No. I actually never in this life thought you'd show up."
"Huh. Well I'll be honest I nearly chickened out a few times. It's not like your house is known for its outwardly friendly and forgiving nature."
"Oh no. We're too smart for that."
"Exactly, I was literally being fed to the ravens."
"You survived though! Not all is lost and now you've proved to the lot of us that not all Slytherins and cold calculating and…" she seemed to forget the other adjective I had used to describe my house.
"Manipulating," I supplied.
"Yes, thank you and holding an inner wish to hex all of us."
I couldn't help but laugh as the sentence had been injected with numerous hiccups. "I guess I have to drink to that."
We'd brought the cups to our lips just as the room erupted into cheers. I turned to see the Quidditch players filing through the entrance. Full grins etched onto their faces and arms outstretched to coax a louder response from their housemates. Last in was Michael Corner who was instantly hoisted onto the beaters shoulders causing everyone to go wild. While mid-air our gazes caught and held, almost instantly he got Jason Samuels and Duncan Inglebee to release their hold. While the rest of his team revelled in the adoration of their house Corner strode towards us, that familiar lob-sided grin pointed directly at me.
"Quidditch uniforms should be outlawed," Isobel muttered in my ear before melting back into the crowd. I half-wanted to call her back – completely agreeing with her. If the Ravenclaw seeker was cute before… Merlin – but instead I found myself alone with him.
"You stuck it out," he only sounded mildly surprised.
"You said there'd be alcohol." Thankfully, said alcohol was relaxing me enough to flirt without feeling awkward and idiotic.
"True," he chuckled, grabbling a drink for himself he sat down beside me, the couch small enough that our legs touched. I was suddenly itching for a cigarette.
"I had fun," I admitted which seemed to make him happy. I found myself watching is face closely for reactions, or perhaps just watching his face…
"I'm glad. I was afraid that I'd scared you off, asking you in front of your friends like that."
A certain warmth came from someone else describing the group as my friends. "I'd say it was braver of you, actually. Blaise can be a bastard for teasing when given the ammunition."
"I was actually more wary of Malfoy. That guy has issues."
"As do we all," I couldn't help my defensive tone, or the spark of anger at the mention of Draco. Corner hadn't a clue what he was talking about.
"I didn't mean anything by it, just that I've been on the receiving end of his 'teasing'." There was a pause which was probably awkward but I was still a little angry about his last comment. Merlin new why I'd be this defensive. I then felt a tug at the scarf around my neck.
"You wore it," it wasn't a question but I answered anyway.
"Had to show whose side I was on, now that we one however –" I reached to pull it off when his warm hands wrapped around mine, stopping all movement and breath from by body.
"Keep it." He was quite close, his eyes so blue yet they somehow stood out against his robes. "The colour suits you."
"I see," I couldn't help the wry smile and tone. "You catch one snitch and you've gained enough confidence to swap my loyalties, interesting form, Corner."
"Hey, come on," he laughed. "You have to admit a catch like that deserves some form of credit."
"Alright, I'll hand it to you – despite nearly killing yourself – consider me impressed. Why didn't you ever play for your house before this year?"
"Not a huge amount of interest I guess," he answered, my question seeming to take the shine off my admission. "But… when Cho decided to leave England… there was an opening and I took it."
Cho. That name rang a bell. It took probably three seconds too long but I made the connection. Cho Chang, ex-Ravenclaw Seeker, and… ex-girlfriend. Oh Merlin.
"I'm guessing she didn't leave on happy terms with you…" ok, four blue-drinks or not: this moment was quite awkward.
"We all have different ways of coping with what happened I guess. I don't really blame her."
"I'm… sorry anyway."
"It's alright," thankfully he threw me a good-natured smile. "You want to get some air?"
"Merlin, yes." The weight of the Bensons in my pocket was becoming too much.
Just like the Room of Requirement, someone had transfigured a balcony within the Common Room. It was common enough when there is going to be a huge mass of students in their at one time, the heat within the towers especially can become stifling otherwise. The moment the cold air struck my face I had to be careful not to stagger, my drinking was having its full effect now that I was both standing and outside. Unbashful, I leant into Michael's warmth who easily tucked him arm around me.
I could feel him watching me as I lit up, the inhaling of smoke making me want to sigh in bliss.
"They're quite bad for you," he commented as I quickly took a second drag.
"How would you know?" I raised my eyebrows.
"My Mum's a Muggle," he informed. "She had a friend who smoked like a chimney. They can kill you, you know."
"So can all sorts of things," I gave him a wide smile which I could tell he couldn't help returning.
"You're a strange one, Alyssa Blackthorne. I'll give you that."
"I prefer interesting… or… endearing…" dropping the cigarette, despite it being only half finished I stepped forward, he was watching me and there was an intensity there that I forced myself not to shy away from. His presence was becoming a heady thing and I wasn't quite sure how much of it was alcohol and how much was because of the damned uniform.
"Endearing?" He repeated questioningly, his eyes shone. Both. Definitely both.
"Very," I lowered my voice, knowing that he could easily hear due to our proximity. "However despite this quality we've been talking in circles for weeks."
"And you disapprove… why?"
"I said weeks Michael," I could see nothing around his face. My eyes flickered down to his lips. "That's a long time to wait for you to make a bloody move."
His eyes widened slightly. "You've been waiting for me?" I nodded. "But – but I was trying to take things slow for you."
"Why?" The exasperation actually causing my voice to crack.
"Well… I didn't you'd ever…" He trailed off, the lightest of pinks colouring his cheeks. I barely noticed however as his explanation hit home. Before I knew it I growled – growled – and stepped so close that our bodies pressed up against each other.
"You know, sometimes I think I'm actually wearing a sign over my head screaming 'virgin'." Was all I said before pulling his mouth to mine.
My fingers slid up through his hair before holding tight. A startled but not displeased sound escaped his throat before his arms wrapped tightly around me, one hand sliding easily up my back sending the best kind of shivers up and down my spine. He met the pressure of my mouth with his own and easily coaxed mine open, letting out a sigh as our tongues met and danced. I easily allowed him to take the better part of my weight, revelling in the feel of his uniform and the smell of night-time and leather.
Our actions came to quite a sudden end when in attempt to shift my weight my ankle rolled and I collapsed into his arms fully, my face pressed willingly into his chest as I blushed furiously.
"You're quite drunk," he chuckled as I groaned in embarrassment.
"It's your fault! You took ages to get here."
"Well I apologise, as penance I will gladly walk you back to your dorm."
I lifted my head, unable to hide my surprised smile. "A gentleman. Interesting… I was expecting an invitation to see the inside of the Boy's dormitories."
"Please," he sighed. "I have far more tact than that."
"Your loss, I have been known to fall for that line." He gave me quite a startled glance.
"I guess I'll know that for future reference…" he murmured as he took my hand and made our way back inside.
I waved at my new friends in Ravenclaw house as we left the party in full swing. Whoever supplied the blue liquid must have charmed the amounts as there were still full cups throughout the common room. Corner and I chatted idly about nothing and everything – meaningless conversations that I knew would be forgotten by morning. He kissed me at the entrance to the dungeons, his hands cupping my face. I smiled a little too widely as he turned the corner before heading towards my own common room. I knew it was well past midnight, the lounge would be empty.
After muttering the password and staggering only a little through the sliding stone wall I noticed the candles were all out announcing I was the last to go to bed. Breathing out a slight breath of relief I made my way towards the girl's dorms, squinting in the very dim green light. Seeing the door come into view I almost smiled at the blissful thought of crawling into bed and passing into a coma-like sleep, tomorrow's hangover not enough to crush my mood –
"What time do you call this?" A voice echoed around what I thought was an empty Slytherin common room. I froze, four metres from freedom. So close.
Turning slowly, my eyes tried to make out the voice's owner, before they could adjust however a spell was muttered, lighting the entire room where I met five pairs of eyes. Two blue, two brown and one grey.
"Balls."
A/N A little break from the regulars this time. Drop me review, I'd love to know what you all think! Thanks for reading and being patient with me!