Chapter 18
The Gryffindor Quidditch team's locker room was buzzing with energy. It was just before the match, and while some of the team were nervously checking their gear, others were bracing themselves with banter. Sarah sat on the bench, not yet fully dressed in Quidditch robes, adjusting her gloves, while Frank Longbottom stood beside her. The two were chatting as if the match wasn't even a few minutes away.
"I wonder what Slytherins have in store for us," Frank muttered as he tightened his elbow pads. "I bet Lestrange has come up with a way around the rules, you think, Potter?"
Sarah looked at him and sighed, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Rosier will definitely pretend it's fair play before he'll attack. And Lestrange? He'd rather get kicked out than do anything by the rules. Trust me, he’s a clear Slytherin, bending the rules for his own benefit.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what we need to hear,” Frank laughed. “Motivation straight from Potter.”
The locker room door opened and Edgar walked in, his usual friendly expression on. “So what, Gryffindors? Ready to show Slytherin who’s boss?” he said cheerfully as he walked past the benches and patted Frank on the back. “Frank, I’m expecting miracles today.”
Frank smiled. “Miracles, don’t worry. What about you, Sarah?”
Sarah sneered. “I’ll leave that to James. I’m just here for show.” That made both Frank and Edgar laugh.
“Yeah, sure,” Edgar commented. “I have a feeling the Slytherins wouldn’t approve. I heard Lestrange was talking quite nervously about you. And that means something.”
“Rabastan? Nervous? I don’t believe it,” Sarah shook her head, but the smile didn’t leave her face. She knew that Rabastan considered her a big obstacle and she was more than glad that he was. “But thanks for the encouragement, Bones.”
Kingsley, who was currently grooming himself at his locker, straightened up and joined the conversation. “So nervous that he might let you win. Just wave that Potter smile of yours at him.”
“Potter’s smile?” Sarah repeated with a laugh. “Kingsley, I’ll just frown at them angry look, a smile won’t help.”
Everyone in the locker room laughed, including Kingsley, who shrugged. The atmosphere was relaxed, which Sarah needed. As they began to make final preparations, she noticed James standing a short distance from the door. He was sitting on a bench, tightening the strap on his glove. He didn't look like he usually did—no self-conscious smirks or remarks. Instead, he looked at her quietly, almost sadly.
Sarah stared at him for a moment, but she didn't interrupt the conversation with the others. It just felt uncomfortable in her head. She sighed and focused back on the others. "Okay, enough of the chatter. Let's go show Slytherin that we're not just a bunch of slobs."
•••
The excited cheers from the stands blending with the crackling wind. Slytherin against Gryffindor—a match always full of rivalry, pride, and hard-fought battles. Sarah sped through the air like an arrow, clutching the Quaffle tightly, her eyes blazing with determination. Gryffindor teammates shouted encouragement as Sarah dodged two Slytherin players trying to block her. With a swift movement, she aimed for the hoops and fired with incredible precision.
The Quaffle sailed cleanly through the middle hoop, and the crowd erupted with joy.
"Potter scores for Gryffindor!" the commentator, a Ravenclaw student, shouted, his voice filled with excitement. "And Lestrange does not look pleased!"
Rabastan Lestrange was fuming, his eyes flashing as he chased after Evan Rosier. "That was a cheap shot, Potter!" he yelled at Sarah, who glanced back briefly to give him an innocent smile before diving back into the game.
Evan, who immediately grabbed the Quaffle, shot toward the Gryffindor hoops, weaving skillfully through his opponents.
"Rosier's got the Quaffle! He passes to Meadowes… Meadowes hands it off to Nott!" called the commentator.
But Marlene, wasn’t about to let anything slide. With incredible accuracy, she sent a Bludger hurtling toward Rosier. Evan barely dodged the impact but lost his balance, hanging onto his broom with one hand. The Quaffle slipped from his grasp, tumbling slowly toward the ground.
Sarah swooped past him, unable to resist a smug grin. "Nice save, Rosier!" she called, her tone laced with playful mockery and satisfaction at her own success.
Evan hissed something about "bloody Gryffindors" as he tried to regain his position. Meanwhile, Sarah snatched the Quaffle and streaked through the air, thinking of another goal. But Dorcas Meadowes quickly recovered and took off after her. Sarah tried to escape, but Dorcas was relentless.
Suddenly, a Bludger whizzed past Sarah, forcing her to make a sharp turn and pass the Quaffle to James. Her brother, however, had no chance to make a move as the Slytherins surrounded him. Evan Rosier, now fully back in action, sped toward him and deftly stole the Quaffle. He immediately aimed for the Gryffindor hoops.
"Rosier shoots… and Longbottom saves it!" the commentator yelled. "Longbottom saves the day for Gryffindor!"
The stands roared. The game was intense and unrelenting, with both teams constantly vying for the Quaffle. Sarah, Evan, and Dorcas emerged as the stars of the match, their rivalry captivating even the most disinterested Quidditch spectators. It was clear there was no love lost between them—only fierce, unyielding competition.
While most of the crowd focused on the struggle for the Quaffle, Regulus Black kept his eyes firmly on the Golden Snitch. His movements were calm and deliberate as he soared through the air with elegant precision. The Gryffindor Seeker tried to keep up, but Regulus was a fraction of a second faster. The Snitch fluttered just ahead of him, and with unwavering focus, he reached out his hand.
"Black goes for the Snitch!" the commentator shouted. "And… he’s got it! Slytherin wins! 200 : 170"
The Slytherin section of the stands exploded with excitement. Fans cheered, clapped, and celebrated their team’s triumph, while Gryffindor let out collective groans of disappointment.
Sarah, exhausted but proud of her team’s performance, landed beside her teammates. She watched as the Slytherins celebrated. Her gaze drifted to Regulus, who calmly held the Snitch aloft. His expression was cold and composed, as usual, but there was a faint hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
Sarah didn’t want to admit it, but something about him intrigued her. As she watched him, she realized how striking he looked in his Quidditch gear. The hours spent on a broom were evident—his broad, muscular shoulders, firm chest, and even the strength in his thighs beneath the fitted Quidditch pants were impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just his physique, though, but the way he carried himself—calm, confident, as if he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted.
She hated herself for noticing. But denying it would have been pointless. Regulus Black was attractive, and she knew it.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Evan and Rabastan.
"I hate to say it, but you’re really good," Evan admitted, extending his hand.
Sarah laughed and shook it. "You’re not so bad yourself, Rosier."
Evan wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded in acknowledgment as Sarah smiled, recognizing their effort. "Good game," she said calmly, though her Gryffindor's pride was evident in every word. "But honestly, if you didn’t have Black as your Seeker, you’d have lost."
Rabastan, still catching his breath from the long match, chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, that’s probably true," he admitted with unexpected candor. "Not much chance against your lineup. Especially not against you," he added, his tone a mix of admiration and slight irritation. "Regulus really saved us all."
Evan, standing beside them, laughed, his voice light and friendly. "Yeah, we wouldn’t have made it without him. That bastard is incredible. But I’m still annoyed you showed me up, Potter," he added with a smirk aimed at Sarah.
Sarah laughed along with them, her laugh easy and relaxed, as though she hadn’t just lost a match but won it. She rested a hand on Rabastan’s shoulder, a gesture that felt entirely natural, and with a smile, repeated, "Really, congratulations. You deserved it. You were good."
Rabastan nodded, a flicker of something like respect in his eyes. But before he could say anything, Sarah glanced over his shoulder—and there they were.
Sirius and James stood a few meters away. Their expressions were utterly shocked. James’s eyes were wide with disbelief, while Sirius, usually composed and cool, looked as though he had just witnessed something completely incomprehensible. Beside them stood Marlene and Lily. While Lily covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hide her words. Marlene’s lips were slightly parted, as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
Sarah knew this wasn't good. As soon as she noticed James and Sirius angrily heading for the locker room, where she now had to go, she pulled her hand away from Rabastan's shoulder, as if the simple touch suddenly had enormous weight. Her smile faded, the tension around her palpable.
Evan was the first to notice the situation, muttering quietly, "Do you want backup, or can you handle this?"
Sarah, despite her usual confidence, suddenly felt as if her legs were made of lead. The mere offer stunned her—she had never expected Evan and Rabastan to confront James over her. She was even a little touched by it. But in the end, she made up her mind.
"I'll handle it," she said quietly, motioning for the boys to leave. Although their faces betrayed a certain uncertainty, they slowly left. Sarah faced James—again.