The most frustrating part of their agreement was how often Rey had to admit that Ben was right. The match against Hufflepuff only solidified that fact.

"Pull up a little earlier when coming out of a dive. Otherwise you spend too much energy controlling your broom and too little time paying attention to where you're going."

Halfway through the match, she'd sent Cassian Andor sprawling in the mud when he tried to match her in a nosedive.

"A good chaser is just as much a defensive player as they are offensive. Don't be afraid to get physical."

She'd been wary of that one. Zorii had her on lock-down since the fouls she pulled against Solo during their last match. Still, while Rey didn't manage to entirely unseat Bodhi Rook from his broom, she did force him to lose possession of the quaffle at least four different times. Surely, she thought as she recovered the fumbled quaffle, she'd be forgiven.

"Keepers expect most right-handed chasers to aim for the left hoop. Switch it up. Never aim for the same goal."

For once, Chirut Imwe's supernatural ability to block any and all shots had been thwarted; try as he might, he could not predict which way the quaffle would soar.

Eventually, Rey had lost count of how many times she'd heard her name called out by the quidditch commentator, but by the end of the match it had spread to an all-out chant in the Gryffindor section of the stands.

As Zori's hand closed around the golden snitch, it was official.

Hufflepuff had played spectacularly.

Rey and the rest of the Gryffindor team played better.

"Tonight!" Poe said as he ruffled Rey's hair and gripped her shoulders. "Tonight, we celebrate. Rey Niima: Gryffindor's rising star!"

She laughed, pushing Poe off of her as they exited the locker rooms. Finn and Rose waited outside, Finn's face painted red and gold while Rose clutched a homemade sign boasting Rey's name in sparkling letters. A little cartoon quidditch player was enchanted to zoom in and out of frame, performing the occasional double-loop as it flew.

"I didn't fall!" Rey said with a laugh as she embraced the two.

"You didn't fall!" Rose confirmed, draping her banner across Rey's shoulders like a cape.

"Damn, Peanut!" said Finn. "You did more than not fall. I've neer seen you fly like that! I'm pretty sure every quidditch player in the stands was shaking in their boots! Watch out, Ravenclaw! You're next!"

"Ravenclaw, then back to Slytherin. We're unstoppable!" Poe confirmed. "Did you see her up there, Finn? That move where she spun sideways to avoid Baze's bludger at the last second and it knocked Bodhi Rook clear off his broom? Fucking stellar, I tell you!"

Rey laughed. "You're the one who intercepted Andor's passes on three separate occasions," she said. "We're clicking, aren't we? The whole team. We might actually win the cup!"

"Not bad for a filthy mudblood."

At once, the excitement drained out of Rey's limbs. Behind her, Armitage Hux and Gwen Phasma exited the stands with the usual band of Slytherins. Near the back, head and shoulders above most of his peers, Ben stood with hands fisted in his pockets. To most people, the cocked head and squared shoulders signified a challenge. But, after a few months of practice, Rey had learned Ben's body language. Predicted when he'd toss a quaffle or go for a fake; studied how his lip would quirk slightly right before he'd speed full-throttle across the field. She'd seen him angry, defiant, joyful, and many other emotions she couldn't quite put a name to. Ben's stance did not signify a readiness to fight. His vacant expression as he gazed with gritted teeth out past the group of Gryffindors was not one of arrogance or defiance. Instead, it was pure avoidance.

"Piss off, Hux. Like you weren't having a panic attack while you were watching the game. Rey and I are going to kick Slytherin's ass," Poe argued, protectively slinging his arm around Rey. She could see his other hand deep in his pockets, clutching at his wand with apprehension.

"They were amateur skills, at best. But what can you expect from a mudblood flying on a scrapheap," Hux said with a snicker.

"It's sad, isn't it," Phasma agreed, peering coldly down her nose. "That her poor excuse for a broom is probably worth more than her clothing. I've had house elves whose pillowcases cost more."

"Smell better, too. But, what can you expect from someone who comes from filth?"

Red sparks flew from Finn's wand, meeting Hux's face with an audible sizzle. Gasping, he clutched at Phasma's arm, his face quickly swelling to double its size as his group scrambled for cover. Frantically, Phasma was reciting a countercurse, practically dragging Hux behind her. Rey could feel her glare as they shuffled away. Clearly, this wouldn't be the end to the altercation.

"Do you want me to go back and throw them in the Great Lake?" Poe asked as he watched them recede. "Let the giant squid tear them apart?"

"Always a fan of a good bat bogey hex," Rose chimed in.

"Ooo! Not a bad idea, Rose!"

Rey stayed silent, clutching the neck of her broom so tightly that she could practically feel the splinters piercing her fingers. Rose's banner had slipped from her shoulders, puddling in the melting snow so that streaks of dirt and grit soaked its edges.

"He's a git," Finn said, reaching for Rey's arm and turning her to face him. "Don't listen to him."

"I'm not," Rey said, shrugging her arm loose.

"Seriously, Rey. Don't listen to a word those assholes say. They're idiotic and insuffereable pricks. They're the human equivalent of a vomit-flavored Bertie Botts bean. They're trash and will always be trash. But, people like that will get what's coming to them. The world's changing, and there's no place for people with the sort of bile that's in their hearts."

"I know, Finn," Rey said with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "You guys head on in. I left my equipment bag in the locker room, but I'll catch up soon."

Finn gave one last look, clearly not convinced, but nodded just the same. Rey ducked back into the stands, taking a breath or two to calm her nerves. Slytherins were always assholes to her. Why would she expect anything different? Grasping her bag from the locker room, she finally exited the pitch, relieved that the crowd had greatly dissipated, leaving only a few stragglers.

"Hey!" she shouted, seeing Ben's dark form lingering by the front gate of the stands. "Ben, wait!"

He turned around, clearly suspicious as he waited for her to continue. Rey swallowed. Why she had called his name, she wasn't quite sure. Part of her felt like yelling at him. He'd done nothing, after all, as his teammates pulled her apart and left her bare. The words were about to leave her mouth but, instead, all that came out was:

"Celebrate with me?"

"What?"

"I mean," she shuffled her feet for a moment. "You're part of the reason I flew like that. So. Celebrate. With me."

"I wouldn't think your friends would approve."

"I don't mean right now," Rey said with a roll of her eyes. "I hardly think you'd want to head up to the Gryffindor common room, no matter how killer the victory party is going to be. But later, we should meet up or something."

"I hardly think a couple of butterbeers and Poe breaking out into some ridiculous fight song counts as a very exciting party."

"You've never heard Poe's rendition of 'Beat Those Bloody Badgers', though. Trust me, it's historic."

"Beat Those Bloody Badgers?" Ben repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"Poe's a good singer, but he's not the most nuanced of lyricists," Rey admitted with a shrug. "Still, the verse about being shaving a badger bald and shoving it down a Hufflepuff's pants is a stroke of genius that even you would appreciate."

"I'll trust you on that," Ben said, the barest of smiles on his face. "The usual spot, then? Sometime around midnight?" he asked.

"Just to be clear, I won't be singing for you out there," Rey clarified, hiding her surprise that Ben Solo was actually willing to meet with her for something unrelated to practice. "But returning to the scene of my miraculous victory? Couldn't think of a better place to celebrate."

o-o-o

In truth, it was not as difficult to slip away from the Gryffindor common room once the butterbeers ran out and the harder liquor began flowing. By that point, most of the younger students, Finn and Rose included, had shuffled wearily off to bed while the older years stumbled around the common room, searching for someone to snog messily in the corners of the room. Poe, himself, had found himself preoccupied with a rather eager 5th year, Tallie Lintra, in the corner of the room and gave Rey no more than a half-dazed thumbs up as she exited through the Fat Lady's portrait. Rey could only roll her eyes in amusement. If Poe remembered where he stuck his tongue the next morning, she would be more than impressed.

By the time she'd escaped to Quidditch stands and taken three laps around the pitch, Ben was waving from below with a bottle of amber liquid glinting in the moonlight.

"Gryffindor's celebration already ended? Would have thought you guys would be up way past midnight. Don't tell me you were all following curfew."

"Celebration's still going strong," Rey said as she dismounted her broom. "But they ran out of food and butterbeer. Now it's just a bunch of dumb, drunk teens trying to charm their way into eachothers' knickers."

"Didn't want to partake?"

"Not much for alcohol or knickers, thank you very much," Rey answered. She raised an eye at the bottle in Ben's hand. 'Odgen's Firewhisky' stretched across its front in an impressive show of calligraphy and glittering sparks. "Really? Firewhisky?"

"Not interested?" Ben asked.

"Tastes terrible. Why drink that when you could subject your tastebuds to something that's actually enjoyable? Call me naive, but I'd prefer pumpkin juice on any day."

Ben shrugged. "What's a celebration without a little booze." He tossed the bottle to her and, ever the skilled chaser, Rey caught it easily with one hand. It was nearly halfway finished, most likely opened on a previous night, perhaps during a Slytherin celebration of some sort. Curious, she weighed the bottle of Odgen's in her hand, the amber liquid swirling as she inspected it and the bottle radiating heat against her icy palms. Shrugging, she uncorked the bottle, taking a swig and letting the liquid rush into her mouth.

Immediately, her body convulsed, coughing desperately as the liquid scorched her throat.

"Ugh. That's disgusting! And you purposefully drink this stuff?"

"You've never tasted real alcohol before, have you?"

"I'm fourteen."

Ben shrugged, unimpressed. The memory of his first night of drinking came back to him in spurts, though admittedly most of it was very foggy. He had a vague memory of throwing up in a stairwell somewhere, possibly inside of a suit of armor. "Tried it for the first time at that age. Of course, it was after we'd won the Quidditch Cup. I suppose you'll never get that chance considering Slytherin's going to take it again. Might as well drink up."

Rey scrunched her nose, handing back the firewhisky. "First of all: rude. Second of all, I'd rather not consume something that tastes like goblin piss."

"Doesn't taste like piss," Ben corrected, taking a substantial swig straight from the bottle. "Tastes like cinnamon and smoke. Tastes like fire. Thus the name, Niima."

"Dragon piss, then."

"Such an expert, are we?" He offered her the bottle again, and she took another dainty taste.

"Ha, ha." Rey rolled her eyes. She paused for a moment, letting the taste linger on her tongue. Ben swallowed hard, watching and waiting. "The second sip's not as bad. I guess I taste the cinnamon a little bit. Overall, though, I really don't see what the point is."

"The point," Ben said, snagging the bottle and taking a hefty gulp, "is more about the feeling than the taste. I'm insulted, though. This is good firewhiskey, Niima. None of the Blishen's crap. Had to snag it from Hux's trunk, and everything."

"Ugh. No wonder it tastes so bad. Essence of arsehole," Rey said. Nevertheless, she grasped the bottle and downed another gulp with a grin, as if secretly enjoying the fact that Hux would find himself mysteriously liquor-less in the morning. Amused, Ben held his hand out to retrieve the bottle, raising an eyebrow in challenge before tipping the entire bottle back and finishing off the final few ounces of liquor before tossing the bottle to the side.

"I'm not taking care of you if you get too drunk to walk," Rey warned. "Is this how you spend most of your Saturday nights in the Slytherin dungeons?"

"Common room," he corrected. "Nothing like a dungeon. More like an aquarium, really. Big old giant squid staring at you when you're trying to take a leak and all that."

"Now, that I'd like to see."

Ben grinned, leering at her in a way that he probably wouldn't have without a bit of liquid courage. "That interested in seeing my private bits, eh?"

"Piss off!" Laughing, she flopped to the ground extending her arms outwards into the frost-bitten ground. Giggling, she reached out to pull at Ben's pant leg, urging him to join her.

"Really?" he asked as he loomed above her. She only grinned, pulling harder on his leg "I'm not so drunk that I can't stand anymore, Niima."

"Lay on the fucking field, already," Rey said with a sigh. "I'll scourigify you later, Solo. You're really that afraid of a little dirt?"

"Fine, fine," he conceded, flopping downwards. The cold bit into the skin underneath his clothing, but he had to admit that there was something peaceful about laying on the ground in the middle of the night, watching the stars flicker in the sky. "Just don't expect me to start making snow angels. I've got to keep some sense of dignity."

Rey snorted at that, and Ben gave a playful shove to her shoulder. She retaliated with a handful of near-melted snow slapped onto Ben's stomach, and Ben jolted as her fingers brushed against him, though not entirely in a bad way. Her hands were warm through the fabric of his sweater, small and fleeting against his chest, before she pulled them away. How could a person be so warm out here as the bone-chilling air gusted around them?

"One step closer to the cup, huh?" Ben said, a relaxed smile spreading across his face.

"You guys, too," Rey acknowledged. "You flew circles around Djarin during the Ravenclaw match. I don't think I've seen him so shaken up before. We might actually get to have a rematch between the two of us, huh?"

Ben just hummed in agreement, content in the moment. The liquor was rushing to his head, sending warmth to his limbs as he peered lazily at her. She smiled at him, and he once again was thrown by how her eyes would crinkle at the corners when she was truly happy. Her hair, frosted with melted snow, clung to her cheek, and Ben had the strangest urge to push it back for her. He wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through it, to hold his hands against the nape of her neck.

Shifting forward, he leaned over and positioned himself above her, his hands gripping her shoulders as he looked down at her. Her eyes were wide, the same warm hazel he'd become familiar with over the last few months. He'd seen them light up so many times as she flew. He wanted to see them light up again. Not entirely in control of his body, he lowered his face downwards, hoping to bring that brightness to her eyes once more.

"What the hell, Ben!" Rey yelped as she leaned away before he made contact, pushing his hands off of her.

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, fuck!

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"No, it's obviously not 'nothing,'" Rey accused, shoving him further away. "What the fuck were you doing, Ben Solo?"

"Stop acting so full of yourself, Niima," Ben argued as he scrambled to his feet. "I was just checking to see if you were still conscious after downing all of my Firewhisky like some damn lush."

"Were you trying to kiss me?"

Ben halted. There it was. He had been, hadn't he? And she pushed him away. Of course she did. What was he thinking? Good little Gryffindor girls like her didn't get tangled up with the likes of him. Of course she would push him away. What the ever-loving fuck was he thinking.

"Like I'd want to touch you," Ben sputtered. This was a mistake. A giant mistake.

"Then, what was that? What'd you think? That you'd give me a couple flying lessons and I'd roll over and shag you?"

"Yeah, right, Niima," he sneered. The embarrassment quickly transitioned into anger, and his head spun from the firewhisky coursing through his system. He desperately just wanted to obliviate the both of them and return to that one, perfect moment before had the stupid urge to try to kiss her. How much of an idiot was he? "You really think I'm that interested in you? Some stupid Gryffindor? You're hardly my type!"

"And what is your type, then?" Rey said as her eyes narrowed. "Rich? Pure-blood? Slytherin with barely even two brain cells to rub together? So sorry I don't meet your expectations."

"What are you even-," Ben halted and groaned in irritation. "Right, because you know me so well, don't you Rey? So knowledgeable! I hardly think trying to help you stay on a broom every week makes you an expert on my affairs. You don't know me, so stop pretending that you do."

"Oh, please!" Rey shouted. "You act all high and mighty, yet here you are. Trying to roll around in the dirt with some disgusting little mudblood, right?"

"I never said that!" he argued. "I wouldn't call you that!"

"Yeah, well," she said as she crossed her arms. "Didn't seem too bothered when your horrible Slytherin pals called me it earlier today."

"What did you expect from me?" Ben argued. To be honest, he had regretted letting Hux say a single word to her, that little shit. "You were the one who wanted to keep our meetings a secret. Couldn't bear to let your little friends know you were talking to me. Sorry that I didn't jump to your defense when you wanted me to spend every day pretending I don't even know your fucking name!"

"Just because you're a Slytherin, that doesn't mean you've got to act like a complete piece of shit. You could have human decency. Doesn't matter if they knew we were friends or not, you could have at least stood up against your little pals for using such a disgusting word!" Angrily, she shoved a palm into Ben's chest, and he tipped backwards slightly. "You think I don't know you, Ben Solo? I do. I know a coward when I see one."

"You could at least say thank you, you know!" He felt like tearing at his own hair. He knew he should stop, but the words kept bubbling out, desperate and angry. "If it weren't for me, you'd never have flown like you did today! You would have made your way back to the bench like the useless Gryffindor I saw during that first match. You were nothing but wasted potential. I made you something, Rey! Something that actually mattered! Don't deny it."

"Well, then. Thank you, your excellency. Thank you for taking a risk and teaching a poor, pathetic muggle-born how to stay on her broom! Let me show how gratefulI am by spreading my legs like some bloody slag and letting you have your way with me. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Maybe it would have been actually worth it, then!"

He regretted the words immediately. Rey stared at him, her face red and blotchy even in the moonlight. He almost reached for her, but stilled his hand for fear that she would bite it off.

"Whatever this is is over," Rey said. Her voice was strained, as if each syllable had to be forced. "I'm not here for a cheap lay. It's done. I don't need you. And you clearly don't need me."

There were no more words after that. Rey clasped her broom in one hand and exited the training field, leaving Ben alone with nothing but a empty bottle of firewhisky.

o-o-o

Rey didn't know why she was crying. She'd beaten Hufflepuff. She was the lead scorer on the entire team. Why should she feel this terrible about Ben Solo, of all people? Nevertheless, the tears came, her body curled in a fetal position as she laid in bed for hours after her argument with Ben.

There was a shuffling of curtains followed by a dip in the mattress. Rey calmed her breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and blocked out the tears. If she was quiet enough, surely whoever it was would just leave.

"I'm sorry you broke up with Ben."

Rey's neck nearly snapped as she frantically met Rose's eyes. The girl was settling into Rey's bed, a look of worry spread over her face as Rey stared at her in shock. "Excuse me?"

"It's okay to be sad, you know. It's human."

"You think I'm dating Ben Solo?"

"Well, not anymore. Because you broke up."

"Rose, what are you even talking about?" Rey said, wanting to die on the spot. "Solo and I don't even talk to each other. Why would you think we're dating?"

"Because you meet on the quidditch pitch together every week in the middle of the night when you think no one's looking."

Rey grew quiet, processing just what Rose had said. She knew this would come, someday. She just didn't expect to be found out so soon.

"You spied on me," Rey stated.

"Okay, well, maybe I kind of followed you one time. But only once! I swear!"

Cradling her face into her hands, Rey groaned. "Oh, Merlin. How have Finn and Poe not yet cornered me? Or started some sort of civil war against the Slytherins. How long have you all known I've been meeting with Ben?"

"Believe it or not, I actually did keep a secret for once," Rose said proudly. "Not that I see why. I mean, yeah he's a Slytherin and all that, but he's actually pretty good looking once you get past the aura of general evil that follows him everywhere. And the ears. The lips, though? And that voice? Damn."

"Please, just stop," Rey begged, mortified. Her head was spinning, and she wasn't entirely sure if it was from the firewhisky.

"I'm just saying, if given the chance," Rose said with an exaggerated groan of yearning, "I would climb that boy like he was the Whomping Willow. I'm not going to judge you for dating a Slytherin of that calibre, especially if everything's proportional."

"We weren't dating," Rey said, her head still in her hands. "He was helping me with my flying. That's all. Not anymore, though. He made it very clear what he thought of me tonight, and I'd rather not talk to him ever again."

"He's a git," Rose confirmed. "You know how Slytherins are. Everything that comes out of their mouths is some sort of pure-blooded pride bullshit. They're raised from birth to be complete arseholes."

"He wasn't, though," Rey said. "Not like Hux and Phasma and all them. I don't know. He hadn't. Not until tonight. I feel like such an idiot, Rose."

Rose shushed her. "You're not an idiot. He was someone who you trusted, and he broke that trust."

"I shouldn't be feeling this way. He was just helping me with quidditch. He's not supposed to matter this much."

"Either way," Rose said, clasping Rey's hand. "If it's an end to a relationship, whether it's romantic or not? You're allowed to mourn it. It's obvious you lost something. That it was important to you. You're allowed to feel things, Rey."

Despite herself, Rey felt the tears leaking from her eyes in streaks. She hadn't cried when she'd been tossed from foster family to foster family. Hadn't shed a tear when she'd ended what few friendships she'd had before shipping off to Hogwarts.

Yet, here she was. Crying over Ben Solo.

Just what was it that she'd lost?