Since DramaAnne asked me so nice, I decided to write another chapter while sleep-derived at 2 in the am. I apologize in advance for any typos, verb confusion, and general suckiness of this chapter. Despite my efforts, I still haven't gotten to the good part yet (it's coming soon, I promise!), so read on to find out the results of a rather unusual Quidditch match. And look for a reference to my favorite British actor (he's a Quidditch player). House points for whoever can tell me where he's from and something he's been in.

Still looking for a Beta. Am almost getting desperate for one. My e-mail is Let me know if interested in a correspondence.

I won't rant again about getting reviews, since it's pretty futile (except for DramaAnne, who always leaves one (thank you)). Enough of my self-centered, ramblings, let's get the story I know you're all dying to read.

Chpt 20- The Quidditch Match

The rain had begun falling on Saturday morning just before breakfast.

"Not a big deal," said Amarantha, "we've played in harder weather than this." As soon as she said it, a clap of thunder let loose from the heavens and the rain poured hard and furious from the sky. "Well, we've played in weather this bad anyway."

As the Quidditch match neared, the rain showed no sign of letting up, and the wind had begun to howl. Gusts of wind swept across the pitch, nearly blowing down the rather sturdy stands.

"I'm not asking for a perfectly clear day, I just think that it could be dangerous to play like this. I know you're not supposed to use them unless it's an emergency, but students could be in danger. Can't you request that the ministry makes an exception?" Amarantha was heard pleading with McGonagall just minutes before the game was about to begin.

"Miss Parker, for that last time, I cannot and will not use a Weather Charm for a game of Quidditch! If conditions become too harsh, we shall cancel and reschedule the game. As far as Madam Hooch is concerned, both teams can still play. If you ask me one more time, I shall bar you from playing. Is that understood?" The Scot certainly had a knack for chastising.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall," Amarantha looked defeated, but quickly put on a happy face for her team.

Lyric and Iona made their way slowly to the pitch. Walking against the wind into the freezing cold rain was not easy. The wind was so cold that most of the rain froze. Small, high velocity pieces of ice cut into any exposed skin. Iona figured out that walking directly behind Hagrid helped to shield most of the sleet.

From high atop the stands, it was almost impossible to see the other side of the pitch, and students could barely make out the players.

"Perhaps Amarantha was on to something, this doesn't seem safe." Iona yelled over the howl of the wind.

Lyric was about to shout out an answer when she saw Tristan standing right besides them. "Can I help you?" she asked disdainfully.

"I'm just here to watch the game with Iona, is that alright with you?"

Lyric glared at Iona, knowing she had invited him along. "You may do as you please," she answered curtly, before turning a cold shoulder on both her friends.

Tristan quietly took his spot next to Iona, without even making a joke on what Lyric had just said.

"So…" Iona started awkwardly, but was cut off by Regina Givens announcing the start of the game.

The whistle blew, and the game began. Much to the chagrin of the students and faculty, the beginning of the game was rather dim, making the weather even more miserable. Larissa Roberts and Amarantha were Gryffindor's Chasers, but they were fighting against the cold rain, making it impossible to fly very fast. Slytherins had the advantage, as the wind was to their backs while scoring.

Slytherin had scored only twice when the Snitch made its presence known. Gryffindor Seeker Jack Davenport and Slytherin Seeker Rhiannon Thomas both saw the small golden ball hovering low to the ground at the center of the field at the exact same moment.

Coming from opposite directions, the wind at their sides. The two aimed ever lower for the Snitch. They seemed more desperate to get out of the rain than to actually win the game. Within mere inches of the Snitch and each other, the ball angled upwards as a particularly large gust of wind blew into both players. Unable to stop, the two ran into each other full forced. The impact emitted a sickening thud that could be heard throughout the pitch, despite the howling wind.

The crowd let out a collective "Oooh," before falling silent waiting to see if the players were alright. Jack was the first to move. He rolled over slightly, bleeding profusely from the head. He looked around for a moment. When it seemed he finally realized where he was, he quickly scrambled to find his broom and jumped back on to head after the Snitch.

Meanwhile, Slytherin Keeper William Brooke had been so concerned with the condition of Rhiannon; it allowed Gryffindor to score twice without the entire crowd even really noticing.

Rhiannon came to fairly soon, seemingly without injury. She also hopped up on her broom and took off to try and win the game.

As Jack and Rhiannon went off in search of the Snitch, Amarantha turned her attention back to be met with a Bludger to the face, compliments of Slytherin Beater Annabelle Lewis. A spray of blood against the grey sky was the first indicator that something was wrong. Amarantha sat perched on her broom calmly for nearly another thirty seconds, before completely passing out and sliding off the end. Peyton, a Beater, set off to catch his captain just before she hit the ground. He set her safely on the ground before ditching his broomstick to make sure she was okay.

Iona, Lyric, and Tristan all gasped as she fell, but collectively exhaled when Peyton caught her.

Slytherin Chasers Michael Fitzsimmons and James Farnsworth, grabbed this opportunity to score again, but Keith, the other Gryffindor Beater knocked the same Bludger that had hit Amarantha towards William Brooke. Brooke took it in the right arm. He nearly fell off his broom but managed to stay on, though he would have a tough time defending.

At this point, neither team cared about scoring, or the game. And near madness broke out on the pitch. Gryffindor Keeper Daniel Lyons and Keith began swinging Bludgers and even the Quaffle at the opposing team. Slytherin responded by trying to knock the remaining Gryffindors off their brooms.

Madame Hooch began calling fouls all over the field, but the players seemed to ignore her. Rhiannon and Jack had disappeared sometime during the mass of injuries and returned to view neck and neck over the Snitch. Both teams were tied, and it was evident that no one else was likely to score, as Daniel was now knocking Annabelle over the head with a Quaffle.

Both players, their robes soaked through and their fingers frozen stiff sat low to their broomsticks with arms outstretched. They moved as though in slow motion, though still racing through the sleet. Jack's newer broomstick proved to be a good investment as he pulled slightly into the lead, his fingers fighting to close around the Snitch. Rhiannon, seemingly beaten, began to fall back, prepared to hand Gryffindor the game.

At that moment, a rogue Bludger came soaring from nowhere and caught Jack on the side of the cheek. He was knocked sideways off the broomstick and rolled several times making varying points of contacts with the muddy ground. Rhiannon, in a moment of sheer delight, shot forward, close her frozen hand around the golden ball and let a scream of pure delight.

"Slytherin wins!" Regina shouted.

Slytherin burst into hysterics, as the rest of the students began screaming at the unsportsmanlike conduct of the Slytherin team. Teachers burst out onto the fields to help the injured students to the infirmary, as the students began to file out of the stands, trading insults with the Slytherins.

Iona, Lyric, and Tristan stood quietly while the rest of the students around them were alive with either anger or excitement.

"I know we lost, but that was one of the best games I've ever seen. Amarantha taking that Bludger to the face was amazing."

Iona and Lyric just stared at him for a moment. "I'm so glad you find one of our best friends near-death experience so amusing." Lyric scolded him.

"Lighten up, Lyric. I'm guessing Amarantha is fine and she'll probably tell this story to everyone she meets. She's loves the attention that comes with massive injuries."

"At exactly what point in your life did you become a total prat? You used to be civil, and have morals and decency. But lately, you've managed to alienate everyone and everything around you. Right, Iona?"

"Don't get me in the middle of this," said, started to head out of the stands.

Lyric stayed for a moment, glaring at Tristan. "I still never got the truth out of you."

Tristan didn't even look at Lyric, but followed Iona out of the stands. Lyric stayed behind for a long while, before heading back to the castle. She was halfway back when she remembered the deal with Snape. Her feet suddenly become much heavier, and the wind was much harsher against her back.

Lyric dreaded this detention, as she dreaded all encounters with Snape. She never knew if he was going to make lighthearted jokes and be a civil man, or if he was going to insult her and act like an ass.

When she stepped inside Hogwarts, she could already hear the celebration of the Slytherins from their common room. Lyric decided to get the rest of her homework done before heading to detention.

She entered the Gryffindor common room to find Amarantha sitting on the couch, a splint on her nose, telling everyone her story. Heading up to her room, she caught sight of Keith, Peyton, and Tristan carrying large vat of green liquid into the common room.

"What the hell is that?" Jack Davenport, fresh from Madame Pomphrey, asked.

"We were brewing it in case we won, so we could get drunk and celebrate. But since that isn't the case, looks like we'll just have to get drunk and mourn our loss. Either way, we're drinking."

"Is that Absinthe?" asked one of the second year students.

"Indeed it is. Now this stuff is strong, I warn you. Everyone under fifteen, you get one small glass. No more, no less. Everyone else can drink at their own discretion, but I am giving fair warning."

As Gryffindors crowded around for their serving, Lyric shook her head in disgust. "Tristan Merton. I didn't actually think you'd be dumb enough to serve this. Aren't you at all worried about the toxicity of the thujone oil?" At hearing the word toxicity most students backed away from the vat.

"Honestly Lyric, when did you become such a downer? Have you made it your job to rain on everybody's parade? For your information, I checked this stuff out myself last night, it's not poisonous, it's not going to cause brain damage, and it's a good brew. I realize that you've forgotten how to have fun around her; but I, fortunately, have not. So please let us be."

Gryffindors stared at Lyric puzzled that these two were no so cruel when they once had been best friends.

"Forgive me Tristan for looking out for the welfare of these people. I know it's something you've never worried about, so I figured I could help some of my fellow Gryffindors out. Whenever I'm about to consume a potentially toxic substance, I enjoy a head up. But since you seem to speak for everyone here, I will no longer concern myself with matters such as that."

And with that, Lyric stormed up to her room. She slammed the door shut and began to cry.

I'll be back with more soon. I promise.