Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews guys, they make writing a lot more fun:) I know that I'm taking this slow, but I think it will make it all the better when things really get started. This chapter is largely here to set up the rest of this fic and provide some transitions and information. I hope you enjoy!
"It'll be fine, Brittany"
"But," Brittany sniffled, "We're always on the same side, and now I have to fight you."
"It's not fighting. It's Quidditch." Santana pointed out patiently, looking across the library table at her friend and forgetting to whisper as her voice rose slightly. A group of feverishly studying fifth years shot them angry looks from a few tables away.
"I thought that if I made the team, I'd just have to fight bad guys, not you!"
"Ssshhhh!" Madame Pince swept by them tutting disapprovingly.
The Latina glared after the ancient librarian, narrowing her eyes as the woman snatched a pack of Drewballs from an indignant Puck, who was sitting with a few boys in the corner. Santana had been watching him out of the corner of her eye as he absentmindedly popped the Drew balls into his mouth, staring shamelessly at a group of older Ravenclaw girls. She'd made a mental note to make fun of him for it later. Santana turned back to Brittany and started to say again that Quidditch was not fighting, but gave it up as futile and instead chuckled, "But I AM a 'bad guy.'"
Brittany looked up quickly and stared at Santana through watery eyes. "I don't know why everyone says that. You're awesome Santana. You're not a 'bad guy.'" She reflected. "You're a good guy! Like Peter Pan, or Shrek!"
"Yeah sure, except I'm way hotter than Shrek." Santana laughed.
Brittany pretended to think and shrugged, ducking as the girl across from her threw a well-aimed ball of parchment. When she reappeared from under the table she was grinning, and looked as though she'd almost forgotten that soon she was going to be competing against her best friend in a Quidditch match.
Santana couldn't ever really find the words to explain to Brittany that the reason most of their classmates at Hogwarts thought that Santana was such a bitch was because, frankly, she was. Sure, Brittany had seen the Latina get a little snappy with a few people, but as soon as Brittany gave the Latina a wide-eyed disapproving look, Santana almost always deflated. Brittany hadn't been around when Santana had reduced a fifth year to tears that morning because he'd been in her way, and she'd happened to notice his ridiculously short pants, or when she'd decked that Ravenclaw last year for saying Brittany was 'a little dim witted.' Brittany only really knew the softer side of Santana.
Santana looked over at the blonde girl, whose nose had scrunched a little as she tried to make sense of the assignment in front of her, wholly unaware that as she read, her quill was dripping large splotches of ink onto the fresh piece of parchment she had just pulled out of her bag. Santana gently guided Brittany's hand back towards the ink jar before pulling her own work towards her. Their third years' workload was dramatically greater than it had been the previous two years, and Santana knew she needed to finish the potions essay lying unwritten in front of her that night or else the next night's pile of homework would be nearly impossible. She couldn't seem to focus though, and soon her mind began to wander again. Whatever she told Brittany, Santana was a little worried about the Quidditch match they'd be playing on Saturday. When she had suggested earlier that year that Brittany try out for the Hufflepuff team, Santana hadn't actually expected her to do it. Now here Santana was, about to go head to head with the one person in the world whose demise, at the price of her gain, would give her no pleasure. Brittany had gotten pretty good on a broom their second year when she'd helped Santana prepare for Slytherin's keeper tryouts. Santana was always a little in awe of how gracefully and effortlessly the girl had been able to move through the air from the start. It was just natural for her. When Santana had gotten the spot, she couldn't help but give Brittany a little of the credit. Santana knew she was an incredible keeper and Brittany was honestly one of the best chasers she'd ever seen. Santana couldn't lose though, and she didn't want to see Brittany's face after Santana's team crushed Brittany's crew of puffballs. She sighed, knowing that no matter how much she overthought it, Saturday would come regardless, and began to write:
'The primary uses of Phoenix tears in potion making are…'
Santana could nearly feel the crowd through the thin walls of the changing room, the cries and stomping feet and noisemakers blending together, rolling like thunder across the grounds. The adrenaline began to pump through her veins. She blithely remembered back to last year, her first match, when the roar of the onlookers and the pressure had nearly made her sick. Now she relished the attention, the chants of "Lopez Lopez Lopez!" that followed a particularly impressive save, and the way it felt to have all eyes on her. She came out of her reverie and came back into the present, where the Slytherin captain was finishing what sounded like a very heartfelt speech. The boy sitting closest to the enthusiastic captain was clearly making a valiant effort not to wipe away the flecks of foreign spit that were peppering his face.
"….And don't forget, don't go easy on them just because they're Hufflepuffs! They may not be cunning or smart, or even brave, but some of them can play a hell of a game of Quidditch!"
Santana immediately found her self stiffen in response to the statement that Hufflepuffs couldn't be smart or brave. She clenched her jaw a little, thinking of Brittany, and was quickly horrified with herself. This was Quidditch. She wasn't going to let anyone, even her best friend, get in the way of her winning. With that she jumped off the bench and joined her teammates in their raucous yells as they stepped out onto the bright pitch in a flurry of green and silver, drinking in the crowd. She watched the captains shake hands, the grass moving slightly in the breeze, the determined face of each Hufflepuff, Brittany's hair blowing everywhere in the wind… and then the whistle had blown, and she kicked hard off the ground.
"Uuuggghhh." Santana tried to sit up, but a throbbing pain in her temple pushed her back down. She opened her eyes into slits, and took in a bright room lined with blurry beds, as an even blurrier woman bustled around between them.
"Ah, you're awake, dear!" The woman caught sight of Santana groggily attempting to make sense of her surroundings, and quickly moved to her side.
Santana was in too much pain and too confused to repromand the woman for calling her 'Dear,' and just asked weakly, "Where am I?" even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.
"The hospital wing, of course! You took a nasty quaffle to the head!"
Santana had never heard of a quaffle ever really hitting any one, let alone putting a person in the hospital wing. Even in her state, Santana's face must have betrayed her confusion, for the nurse, as she seemed to be, continued to speak.
"Hardest shot I've ever seen in all my years, and more than a few professional players have passed through this school."
"Santana?" came a voice from across the room.
Santana thought she might know to whom the voice belonged, and wasn't entirely surprised when seconds later a mass of blonde hair had shrouded the bright lights and Brittany's strong arms were pulling her close in a bone-crushing hug.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't realize it would hit- I was just trying to score! I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"
"You'll just make her worse if you keep that up!" scorned the nurse, pulling Brittany off of the bedridden girl.
She turned to Santana, who was smiling a little against her will, but winced as a new wave of pain rushed through her head."You'll be fine love, it was just a bad concussion. Give it a day of bedrest, drink this, and you'll be out of here in no time." She gestured to a small glass of deep purple liquid resting besides Santana's head on a nightstand, steaming slightly.
"You may have a bit of a black eye though," she added upon further thought. "And you," She turned her eyes to Brittany, " Had best leave if you want her to ever get better."
"But Madam Pomfrey, can't I stay just a little while?" Brittany seemed to shrink slightly when the older woman turned to her, raising an eyebrow.
"Not tonight, but don't worry, she'll still be here in the morning."
Brittany looked as if she was going to argue, but seemed to think better of it.
"Good night, San. I'm so sorry. I hope the meditation makes you feel better."
Madame Pomfrey looked confused, but Santana just giggled up at the tall blonde girl through heavy eyelids, "It's medicine Britt. And it's alright, I know you were just trying to score."
Once the nurse had ushered a reluctant Brittany out the door and spooned the hot liquid down Santana's throat she waved her wand, instantly extinguishing the lights.
"You know, that girl's sat here for the past day waiting for you to wake up," She said, beginning to close the curtains on all of the beds. "Very loyal friend," She continued, more to herself than Santana, before walking out of the room.
Santana sat in the dark, trying to ignore the pain in her head. Yes, Brittany was a very loyal friend, even if she HAD just accidentally knocked Santana out cold. Had she really sat there all day? The thought simultaneously comforted and unnerved Santana. The last time she had truly trusted someone, he'd left her crying on the pavement and had never come back. Letting people care about her was not one of Santana's strong suits. She could feel the sleep starting to tug at her conscious. Brittany felt safe, though. With that final thought, Santana let her exhaustion pull her into a deep, dreamless sleep.
"You look terrible,"remarked Jenn from her bed, glancing up over the daily prophet propped up on her knees when Santana entered the dormitory the next night.
Santana knew Jenn was right. Her hair was mussed up and the dark shadow of a black eye was clearly forming under her normally caramel skin. Nonetheless she retorted fiercely.
"Remember when you got that mess of zits last year? Who was it that gave you the cream that cleared them right up? Oh right, that was totally me. I could take that back any day you know, and everyone could see just how much your face and the moon's surface have in common. You'd have to be careful, people might try to land spaceships on it or something."
Santana's words had been cruel even by her standards, especially considering that she and Jenn had been friends of sorts for nearly three years now.
The girl looked as though she was trying to come up with a good comeback to hide how much the Latina's words had actually stung, but eventually only came out with, "I didn't mean it like that- I just meant…"
But just exactly how Jenn had meant it was lost in the swooshing sounds of closing bed curtains, and the baffled girl was shut out completely as Santana disappeared behind iron grey sheets. Santana heard Jenn sniff a little through her bed hangings as she pulled off her own robes and began changing into her pajamas. For once she felt a little guilty. She and Jenn had let the friendship they'd cultivated throughout their first, and most of their second year, fade into near near nothingness. Who was Santana kidding? Jenn hadn't changed at all. Santana knew that it was actually she who had pushed the other girl away. She couldn't deny that they'd been a strong pair. At one point, the two could walk through the corridors together and the sea of first years would literally part to give them their own lane to walk in. After Santana had started training for Quidditch tryouts every night the previous year though, things had started to change. Jenn had eventually stopped asking questions when Santana kept slipping into the dorm in the early hours of the morning, sporting a broomstick and an uncharacteristically childish smile. Slowly the weeks had gone by and Santana had started completely tuning out Jenn's usual monologues regarding Rachel Berry's horrid shoes, or how beautiful the sixth year boys were looking that day. Santana's cruel comments had slowly begun to snake around, and suddenly it was not only half of Hogwarts' entire student body, but also Jenn and Jade that were subjected to her biting words. Jenn had been sitting in the staircase with Jade, the place where the two and Santana had taken their lunches for the past year, when Santana had made it clear with blatant finality that she was done with the friendship as they'd known it. As Jenn had taken a bite of her sandwich, tired of waiting, the Latina had walked straight by her for the first time in a year, talking animatedly to Brittany S. Pierce, and continued out the doors of the Great Hall, not once looking back at the girls she'd left behind on the steps. She had never really returned to them after that. Sure, they would still talk sometimes, but it was cold and awkward, and as soon as they had brushed over every obvious surface-level conversation, a heavy, stifling silence would settle over them. Honestly though, Santana didn't mind. The rest of the school didn't necessarily realize that she and Jenn weren't the tight duo they had been before, and most of her peers still seemed to shrink into the walls when she passed by. Santana's reputation was still in tact. The fact that the callous Slytherin now spent most of her free time with with high-spirited Hufflepuff girl may have struck a few, or even many, as strange, but no one would ever have the nerve to say anything about it. And that was just the way Santana liked it.