A/N-Yeah! Next one! I want more reviews, but you guys ain't giving them! :((

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Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!

The bruises from the first Quidditch practice ever still hadn't gone, and now I had new additions to my collection! Damn! I am completely enveloped in bruises! I just had to let the Bludgers loose like they wouldn't fling themselves at me.

I was training alone, again. I had the unrealistic idea that I could Chase with the bloody bludgers out and not needing the Beaters to back me up. What a bloody fool I was. I was too confident of my own abilities.

It was the second time that night that my shoulder got hit sharply and precisely by that Bludger, being the only person in the Pitch. The Quaffle was held uncertainly in my tingling fingers. My arm was searing in pain.

My breath got caught as I saw the Bludger aiming back at me, and all I could do was wait for the blow with wide eyes. Someone flung in front of me and hit the Bludger away from me with all the force from the body.

Black turned around, smiling cheekily at me. "Gryffindor booked the Pitch for practice tonight, you know."

"Sorry," I muttered. "I didn't know."

I started flying down toward the ground, forcing myself not to look embarrassed. How typical it was that I would end up training on the day that Gryffindor would practice also.

"Do you know that I never hear you say any words of gratitude?" Black said in amusement, flying down with me. "No simple word of thanks for blocking that Bludger from hitting you, yet again?"

I blinked up in surprise when I got on the ground. How did he notice these stuff? I barely noticed my own habits. "Sorry...again."

He stared at me expectantly.

"Do you expect me to say thank you when you just ordered me to say thank you?" I asked in bewilderment. "Honestly?"

"It's manners. Aren't you Slytherins taught those lessons growing up?" he said sarcastically.

"Well sorry, if we're not as recklessly amiable like you sodding Gryffindors."

"Ungrateful too," he observed, looking me up and down. "They're just two words, or one word if you don't have the voice to say it."

"Thank you," I replied grudgingly.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"My pride is now hurt because I actually thanked a witless Gryffindor."

"Witless? Me?" he looked over his shoulder. "Oy, Prongs! This girl is saying that I'm witless! Can you believe it?"

"Hernandez," Potter yelled, out of the locker rooms, the rest of his team trailing behind him, who were casting vehement looks at me. I rolled my eyes. "You are not allowed to insult my players in my field in my practice!"

"Oh Potter, stop being so melodramatic." I looked at the glaring people behind him and addressed them, "Hudder, Rosafelt, Jimney, Lamens, Rupper."

"Hernandez," they murmured in unison, hissing, more like.

Potter looked behind him and smirked. "You'll forgive the rest of my team. They still haven't quite forgiven you for beating us in the 1st match."

"Competitive lot, aren't you?"

"With your House?" Potter looked at me in a frank way. "What do you think?"

"Well I'm so sorry that I have the snake on my chest to be proud of," I said sarcastically. "And that I behold the lovely colors of green and silver."

I smirked at all of them, looking like the spitting image of what a Slytherin ought to be, since I was even in my Quidditch uniform. I looked at them tentatively, knowing that my black eyes would look both taunting, insolent and amused.

"Like we would want to have the little wriggling worms for our mascots," Potter retorted, stepping forward. "At least we're a proud creature, roaming without fear of being the prey. Your mascot's just a worm that could be dead with a step of our paws."

"All right," Black said nervously, stepping in between us. Potter and I were so close that our faces were just inches apart. "I think it's not debatable, this issue. I mean, it's been going on for centuries and it still hasn't been answered until now."

"Oh," I glanced around him, piercing Potter with my glower. "Then why don't we finally settle that debate now?"

"My sentiments exactly," Potter seconded the motion, straddling his broom.

I straddled mine with ease. "First to find the Snitch."

"And score fifty points the fastest."

"So basically, we're both just playing a one-person team?" I was gripping my broom tightly.

"Take a bat then, and let's get on with it."

I took the one that Black was holding and directly went to the center, ready to play the game. I tapped my bat with the palm of my hand, squinting my eyes at Potter, as he hovered opposite me. Black was in between us, holding the Quaffle uncertainly and darting his eyes in between us.

He tossed it upwards and two blurs that were me and Potter darted toward it. He caught it, damn him. I launched to go after him, and quite coincidentally, I saw a Bludger darting towards us. I hit it with all the force I could muster and it headed straight toward the tail of his broom. He let go of the Quaffle in the effort to keep on his broom.

I caught it as it hurtled toward the ground. I shot towards the other end of the field and flung it through one of the hoops before he could steal in from me. without him Keeping, I was able to shoot it without any delay.

He took the Quaffle and I darted toward the goals. I positioned myself, poised to take the Quaffle whenever he got there, realizing that I was not on his tail. When he got to the goalposts, he narrowed his eyes at me, searching for a weak spot. He must've known that I was as good as him though, him a smidgen better at me but only with Seeking, but I was a better Keeper. I faked left when he faked left and then caught the ball just inches before it reached the golden hoop.

This went on until I reached my fifty points and he was at forty, meaning that I had a headstart to look for the Snitch, but had to Keep at the same time. I stationed myself at the goalposts, searching for a glint of gold. In the corner, on the other side of the field, the flash of gold that I've been looking for was there.

I abandoned my post and started toward it, seconds later, I heard the clang that meant that Potter got the Quaffle in, meaning that there was a chance that he would win and a chance that I would win.

Next thing I knew, he was on my tail, trying to speed up, but failing. A Bludger passed and I hit it toward him, but he dodged it. I sped up in frustration. The gold was so near, and his head was the same level as my shoudler.

The Snitch seemed to realize that it was being followed, and it sped down toward the ground, with me and Potter following it. The Snitch went on forward as it floated inches above the ground. Me and Potter were skilled enough to pull up and not crash into the green and lose consciousness for only Merlin knows how many days.

The gold was within either mine or Potters' reach. I could see, from the corner of my eye that his face was contorted into the same expression of frustration and anxiety that I knew was also on my face.

Our hands were almost touching, reaching for the Snitch.

We went crashing toward the ground as our brooms kept going down without us knowing it. The dirt was on his face and mine, and we dug a deep hole with our bodies. But someone caught the Snitch, and it was fluttering its wings feebly as it lay in the persons hand.

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A/N-I really hope you liked it. Reviews. xoxo's.