Her own keeper
Theodore Avery doesn’t seem like he wants to be on the quidditch pitch, which is a bit worrying really, considering it’s the day of their match against Ravenclaw-and Slytherin hasn’t won the cup in three years.
Maybe he’s recalling this, as a third year chaser falls to the ground for what feels like the fifth time this session. Alexandra might sympathise with him if he wasn’t such a tyrant, but alas since he actively decides to take on the role of cruel captain everytime they have a practice, she has no choice but to smirk in the face of his misery.
“Nothing’s funny Garnier.” He grinds out walking towards her with his bat held threateningly towards her face.
His method of leadership is downright evil at times, and that is why she doesn’t put clubbing her in the head with said bat, past him. “You’re right.” She says, eyeing him warily. “Nothing’s funny at all.”
He opens his mouth as though ready to shout at her, before closing it again when Mulciber walks onto the pitch ten minutes late. She lets out a sigh, thanking the boy quietly for his taking on the brunt of the lecture.
These days Avery is always shouting for one reason or another, though it’s not exactly out of character for him. Sometimes she wonders if he took up the position of captain if only to let out whatever anger he has pent up.
She doesn’t blame him if she’s honest, she’s had her fair share of angry outbursts and it’s only the beginning of term.
The stands are already packed by the time the rest of the Slytherin team trudge down to the pitch-much to an already angry Avery’s dismay.
“We’re going to wipe the floor with those Ravenclaw losers.” Allegra calls out, hair tied back, and looking rather pretty in her emerald and white quidditch uniform. “Though I may have to nurse Anthony Hiker back to life when we’re done.”
Alexandra snorts before pulling her hair back into a bun. “I don’t think there’s a broom cupboard big enough to store that fat lump in.”
“That’s why I know the Ravenclaw password, silly.” She says in reply. Petting Alexandra on the shoulder.
Alexandra has half a mind to call her out for being a slut when Mary MacDonald’s as loud as she is announces the Ravenclaw players.
“HERE COMES RAVENCLAW'S, WINTERS, BLACKTHORN, LANGLEY, HIKER, SIMMONS, LLOYD AND THE LOVELY GILROY.”
She braces herself as a wave of blue and silver flashes before her, sending a blow of wind into her face as the Ravenclaw players fly onto the pitch. It’s a rainy-ish day courtesy of the October clouds readying themselves for winter. She looks for Black in the array of green behind her, it’ll be harder to find the snitch today, and the expression on his face tells her he’s already aware of this. Nonetheless, she takes his self assurance in stride. She’ll have to score as many goals to accommodate any potential slip ups from the team's seeker.
“That's our cue," Avery says, before turning to face them. Alexandra jolts back a bit at the unexpected closeness of his face. “If we lose today, I’ll have you all wanting to quit quidditch entirely.”
With that kind piece of encouragement he kicks off, gracing the middle of the pitch the moment his name is called out by Macdonald.
“And here’s Slytherin's-what's that” Professor McGonagall whispers something aggressively in Mary’s ear and suddenly she live \ns up.
“YES HERE COMES SLYTHERINS, AVERY, MULCIBER, FLINT,, ROSIER, GARNIER, CARRINGTON AND BLACK. LET’S HOPE THEY START THE FIRST GAME OF THE YEAR FAIR-OW! I MEAN BEST OF LUCK TO BOTH TEAMS!”
Alexandra rolls her eyes at the commentary. Leave it to McGonagall to find the most biassed individual to head the loudspeaker. Then again, looking around, finding one that isn’t biassed would be rather hard work.
As for every match, the stands are split directly by colour, however it doesn’t take an owl to see the distinct ratio of green to blue. Not that she’s surprised though, her house doesn’t exactly make an effort to mingle with the others.
That is, not including Allegra, nor her activities within broom closets.
Speaking of, her gaze is directed at one stand and her brows furrowed. She notices Alexandra looking and points over to Black,Potter and Pettigrew, who at the moment, appear to be orchestrating a chant. “Regulus needs to get his brother under control.” She mutters before walking away..
The noise of the surrounding pitch with an added impact of the wind in her ears makes it very difficult to hear what is being said. As though he can hear her thoughts, Potter meets her gaze and in a flurry of hand movements, gets the makeshift choir to louden their voices.
“Ravenclaw soars, Slytherin sinks!
Cheat and lie, they're out of sync!
Brains and wit, the Eagles fly,
Slytherin falls, no matter how they try!”
She’s actually taken aback by the level of stupidity she’s witnessing, and makes sure to summon her most disgusted glower in their direction before kicking off and joining her team in the lineup.
“GARNIER TAKES HER PLACE OPPOSITE THE RAVENCLAW TEAM. LOOKS LIKE THERE'S SOME TENSION ALREADY FOLKS – HOPEFULLY RAVENCLAWS ACCOUNTED FOR THE JINXES MULCIBERS BOUND TO THROW-OK,OK I’LL STOP.”
There is indeed a thick level of tension in the air, and that pathetic chant that seems to be surrounding her in all directions doesn’t do much to lessen her nerves. Alexandra’s not a liar though, and she won’t deny that her team does enjoy playing dirty, not that she partakes herself though (at least she’s never been caught before.)
The air is cold as the match waits to kick off. Alexandra pushes off the ground with a powerful kick, and the familiar feeling of the wind rushes past her as she ascends into the swirl of players.
Madame Hooch makes her way over the players, quaffle in hand, “I want a nice clean game from you all.” She says, shooting a glance at Slytherin to which Avery visibly bristles. “No funny business.”
Alexandra hears a snort from somewhere to her left and she turns to glance at Gilroy. A plucky muggleborn, who’s had it out for her every time they’ve played. She rolls her eyes at the challenge.
Funny business or not. Alexandra outplays her and everyone knows it.
She’s in the middle of shooting her a condescending look that highlights just that, when the shrill sound of the whistle cuts through the pitch and the quaffle is in play.
She curses herself for the late reaction and narrows her focus, aiming to take control of the game before it has a proper chance to begin.
It’s a bad attempt, Gilroy gets there first, and throws her a harsh shove in reminder.
Alexandra clenches her teeth and considers throwing a hex. The Ravenclaws have gotten better this year, tenacious and vicious enough to catch her off guard. Their Chasers are moving in perfect sync and she’s finding it difficult to find a crack in the formation. Langley, their captain, directs them and they pass between themselves until they inevitably get to the goal.
Alexandra surges forward to intercept the quaffle at its peak height, angling her broom until it's almost completely vertical before diving in the opposite direction. Chasers from both teams are hot on her tail, but she’s moving so fast that everything around her becomes a blur of blue and emerald, making it nearly impossible to tell them apart.
“Stick to the plan and pass.” Avery’s voice barks out from somewhere behind her. She shoots him a glare and takes a sharp turn, narrowly avoiding a bludger that whistles past her ear. Judging by the pained noise muttered to her left, someone on Ravenclaw is not as lucky.
“UNFORTUNATE HIT TO LLOYD. COME ON RAVENCLAW DON’T LET GARNIER SCORE I’VE GOT FIVE GALLEONS RIDING ON THIS - WHAT IM NOT PLAYING FAVOURITES PROFESSOR- FOUL! FOUL I CALL FOUL! MULCIBER HEXES GILROY-HE OUGHT TO BE PUNISHED FOR THAT.”
Alexandra scowls as she watches a curse flash from Mulcibers wand,causing Gilroy’s broom to buck violently and away from Alexandra. No doubt it looks unsavoury, which infuriates her even more. She’d have made it to the goal whether or not Gilroy was there to intercept. She’s much too slow.
The girl screams, plummeting towards the ground before another one of her teammates fall back to save her. Alexandra, as annoyed as she may be, doesnt hesitate; she surges forward, grasping the quaffle and lobbing it towards the goals.
“ANOTHER DIRTY TRICK FROM SLYTHERIN!” Mary’s voice rings out.. “GARNIER SWOOPS IN LIKE A VULTURE—THAT’S A GOAL, BUT LET’S NOT PRETEND SHE EARNED IT!”
The crowd erupts—half in cheers, half in boos—as the Slytherin supporters celebrate while the Ravenclaw fans vent their outrage. Alexandra doesn’t care; she’s not surprised that Hufflepuff and Gryffindor have also made it their mission to hate on her house. It’s usually Slytherin against the rest of the school, even without Quidditch in the equation.
The rain is pelting relentlessly onto the pitch and every gust of wind sends icy water splattering against Alexandra's face, making it harder to see, harder to breathe, harder to focus. Her uniform clings uncomfortably to her skin, soaked through with rain and sweat.
The weather’s not the only thing making things difficult.
As the game progresses, it becomes a brutal back-and-forth battle, with most of her teammates not even bothering to conceal their cheating now. Mulciber continues to send out curses, each one timed perfectly to throw the Revanclaws off their game. A jinx here, a hex there—nothing overt enough to draw Madam Hooch’s immediate attention, but enough to warrant a verbal battering from Macdonald up above.
“COME ON RAVENCLAW, YOU KNOW YOU HAVE WANDS TOO.”
Avery also isn’t above using his bat for more than just deflecting bludgers. He smashes the ball with a ferocity that sends it barreling toward the Ravenclaw Chasers, forcing them to scatter. One particularly vicious strike sends the Ravenclaw Beater, Simmons, spinning off course, nearly colliding with his own teammate.
“OH LOOK, AVERY THINKS HE’S PLAYING GOLF!” Mary’s voice rings. “BETTER WATCH OUT, RAVENCLAW, OR YOU MIGHT END UP IN THE HOSPITAL WING BEFORE LUNCH!”
Ignoring Mary’s commentary, Alexandra hurls herself faster across the pitch, determined to break through Ravenclaw's defence. The rain lashes at her face, and it’s frankly annoying enough to have her slow down.
Apparently some people on the opposite team are doing just fine though. Because just as she goes to wipe a cold raindrop from falling into her eye and blinding her, she spots Langely. And his cocky smirk and perfect looking hair tell her everying she wants to know.
Ravenclaw are cheaters. Except it’s in an entirely different way.
“Everything ok over there?” He says, before shooting off towards her goalposts. She swears she sees a flash of amusement in his eyes as he takes in her clearly disshelved appearance, and that does enough for her to shoot a dark look at Mulciber.
As annoying as he may be. He’s frightfully good at paralysing people by “accident”.
“Arrogant git,” she mutters under her breath, angling her broom sharply to intercept his path to score. It works, and the rogue bludger (sent flying with what appears to be supernatural strength) knocks into a dry Langely, who deposits the quaffle into her waiting arms. However, the force of her movement in dodging the bludger (honestly it’s like Mulciber has the aim of a toothbrush) sends a spray of mud flying, and she barely manages to avoid colliding with Carrington, who, as usual, appears to be struggling to keep up with the pace of the game.
“Pass to me!” He shouts over the roar of the wind, and Alexandra doesn’t hesitate in ignoring him. His earlier fumbles are fresh in her mind, and she can’t afford to lose possession of the quaffle now. Not with Ravenclaw breathing down their necks.
“Not until you prove yourself useful,” she snaps back, making a sharp turn to avoid a bludger aimed directly at her head. She feels a twinge of guilt at her harsh words, but she quickly dismisses it. It’s not like she’d injured his pride as an athlete, everyone knows he’s only on the team because Avery wants to marry into his family, and Carrington is sure to put in a good word with his father.
“GARNIER'S NOT SHARING TODAY, FOLKS,” Mary’s voice cuts in again, and Alexandra wonders why McGonagall has decided to be so lenient today. “MAYBE SHE DOESN’T TRUST HER TEAM—AND HONESTLY, WHO COULD BLAME HER?”
As she surges forward, Alexandra can feel the pressure mounting. The match is slipping away from them, and if they don’t act fast, Ravenclaw will secure a lead that Slytherin can’t catch up to. The rain makes everything ten times harder—her broomstick is slippery, the cold bites at her skin, and the quaffle feels heavier in her hands. But none of that matters. All she cares about is getting that quaffle through the goalposts.
Langley, quickly recovered, is after her again, and Alexandra grits her teeth, pushing her broom as far as it can go. She refuses to lose the quaffle to him, not with the goalposts being this close. But he’s an annoyingly good player, his movements are calculated and precise, and she can’t help but respect the skill even as she despises the person behind it.
“You’re getting slow Garnier!” He taunts as he closes in on her. “I reckon you used to be faster than this.”
In any other circumstance she’d have hexed him for daring to open his mouth to form the words. Considering that her hands are full though, Alexandra doesn’t dignify him with a response.Instead, she banks hard to the left, hoping the bludger that just narrowly missed her shoulder finds him instead.
As usual, though, nothing goes her way—Langley just speeds up, apparently encouraged by the near-death experience.
As she moves towards the goalposts, a blur of blue and silver streaks past her. She spots Gilroy and Alexandra’s chest tightens with frustration. Gilroy is quick, too quick, and she’s managed to get ahead, blocking Alexandra’s path to the goal. She turns to look for Allegra for support, but she’s being nailed down by the rest of the Ravenclaw beaters. For a moment she considers passing to Carrington, but one look at his face and she dismisses the thought immediately.She may as well double back and score in her own goal—at least that way she could minimize wasted time.
“GILROY’S NOT LETTING UP!” Mary’s voice rings out, tinged with a shout of excitement. “SHE’S GOT HER SIGHTS SET ON GARNIER, AND IT’S GONNA BE A TOUGH FIGHT TO THE FINISH!”
It’s a bit annoying really. That Macdonald seems to let up on the insults only when she’s excitedly announcing her failure.
With a push of determination, Alexandra barrels forward, lowering herself almost flat against her broomstick to gain speed, in the hopes of out flying their defence. She can’t shake Gilroy though, who is right there, practically breathing down her neck, Alexandra shudders in disgust.
She’ll be dealing with her later for sure.
The disturbing proximity isn’t enough to make her back down though. She feints to the right, and just as Gilroy moves to block her, she swerves sharply to the left. Predicting her plays perfectly and dodging the muggleborn by mere inches.
The goalposts are in sight and she almost sighs in relief as she grips the quaffle tightly, preparing to shoot.
She knows she can make the shot.
But just as she draws her arm to aim, she feels a jolt of crippling pain as something slams into her side, almost launching her off her broom. A bludger sent over by one of the Ravenclaw beaters-and it is so vicious that it knocks the quaffle right out of her grip.
The impact knocks the breath out of her, and she’s not fast enough to react when Gilroy, in a run of arrogance and silver, swoops in and snatches the quaffle from her grasp, leaving Alexandra stunned and furious.
“OH, AND GILROY TAKES IT BACK!” Mary crows triumphantly. “THAT’S GONNA STING FOR GARNIER—AND LOOK AT THAT FACE! IF LOOKS COULD KILL, FOLKS, WE’D HAVE A FUNERAL ON OUR HANDS!”
Alexandra swears under her breath, feeling the sting of the lost opportunity. Her side throbs where the bludger hit, and she has to grip onto her broom to steady herself.
Madame Hooch blows the whistle and calls for her to come down to the grass so as to ensure no broken bones. Alexandra dismisses any worries and takes a large gulp of pain numbing potion before kicking off and rejoining her team in the air.
“Find the snitch Black.” Mulciber huffs,wiping the sweat off his face. “We’re barely ahead, just end the game.”
Regulus, although appearing irked, replies coolly. “Focus on your job Mulciber i’ll do mine.”
Avery on his right, looks surprisingly chipper. Then again he’s been swinging that bat so aggressively for the past hour that Alexandra has no choice but to assume all the negativity is out of his system.
“Don’t lose the Quaffle again Garnier.” Is all he says before patting Carrington on the shoulder. “Your father must've taught you well, Carrington.”
Allegra lets out the sigh that Alexandra decides to hold in. Knowing Avery, a chipper mood is as a rare as anything. She’s not ready to risk losing it just yet.
Hooch lifts her little white flag, signalling her decision to the announcer. “No foul! Continue.” and what seems like the entire pitch starts to cheer.
Honestly, and they wonder why she hexes them every chance she gets.
The game begins again with the quaffle in Ravenclaws possession. And Alexandra can only watch in horror as they advance swiftly across the pitch, passing the quaffle between themselves.
The rain is coming down even harder now, making it almost impossible to see. Alexandra’s hair is plastered to her face, her hands numb from the cold. But she forces herself to focus, to ignore the miserable weather and the pain in her side. She’s not about to let Ravenclaw win and risk Avery’s wrath.
She’s zooming across the pitch in hope of intercepting when she sees Regulus hovering near the edge of the pitch, his grey eyes matching that of the stormy weather as he scans the skies for any sign of the snitch. His face is stony in focus, and it’s clear he’s feeling the pressure too. He knows the longer that the rain goes on the harder it’ll be for him to find the snitch.
He notices her glare and sends her one of his own. It speaks focus on the match and she doubles back at the reminder.
“COME ON, WINTERS!” Mary’s voice interrupts her thoughts, louder than ever. “FIND THAT SNITCH, OR YOU’LL HAVE THE WHOLE SCHOOL AFTER YOU!-OK IM SORRY PROFESSOR BUT IT’S TRUE NOBODY WANTS SLYTHERIN TO-OK OK SORRY!”
Regulus doesn’t react to the comment as usual, but Alexandra catches the slight tightening of his jaw. She knows he hates Mary’s running commentary as much as anyone, but he’s not about to let anyone see that.
The pitch below her is barely visible now, and everytime she looks up she has to shade her eyes from the onslaught of water droplets. Ravenclaw is unaffected and they continue to chase goal after goal.
Poor Rosier, along with the rest of her team, hadn't had the incentive to waterproof himself before the match. The Ravenclaws chase down his blind spots and use the rain to their advantage. He manages to hold them off though. And Alexandra suspects a custom extension charm on each of his limbs.
Quietly praising Evan for his sheer skill within the hoop,she flies on. Allowing the commentary and baddening weather to serve as a veil to disguise her from sneaking up on her opponents. The Ravenclaw players are getting arrogant, and while their defenses are down, she sweeps past them and snatches the quaffle, diving down toward the goalpost before the chasers have any chance to react. Her side burns when she faces the Keeper. He follows her as she feints left, then right, but doesn’t anticipate her throwing it cleanly past him and straight through the middle hoop.
The crowd is up in arms.
“ANOTHER GOAL FOR SLYTHERIN!” Mary announces begrudgingly. “GARNIER’S GOT HER EYE IN TODAY—COME ON RAVENCLAW, USE YOUR BATS!”
The jab is aimed right at her, but she lets it roll off . Between the bad weather and the aggravating bruise, no doubt forming below her rib, an annoying commentator is the least of her concerns.
And then Avery’s good mood dissipates.
“Regulus, stop waiting around! We’re ahead, just catch the Snitch and end this!” he says, voice edged with frustration, cutting through the noise of the crowd and the chaos of the game.
Regulus, who’s still hovering above the action, calmly scanning for the Snitch, doesn’t even bother to look at Avery. Nor reply.
They all know what he means. They do what he says.
Avery growls something under his breath, but Regulus ignores him, his eyes flicking across the pitch, focused.
Alexandra pushes down her irritation and drives forward again. The Ravenclaws are regrouping, their Chasers forming up in a tight formation, clearly preparing for a coordinated assault. But despite their anger, Avery and Mulciber are ready. A Bludger, sent flying by Avery, slams into the Ravenclaw captain, Langley, who’s forced to swerve sharply to avoid being knocked off his broom.
This doesn't do much to divert his focus though, and before long he's tailing her chasers, putting pressure on her back and blocking off most of her escapes. Stupidly though, he doesn't account for the girl now speeding up behind him. Alexandra stops abruptly and passes over to Allegra, who is too fast for a confused Langely, and cuts through the Ravenclaw formation like a knife. Evidently excited by the prospect of being free for the first time this match, she dodges one, two, three defenders before launching the quaffle with all of her strength. It soars past Gilroy’s outstretched arms and sails straight through the hoop.
“ANOTHER SCORE FOR SLYTHERIN!” Mary’s voice is almost shrill with disbelief. “AND THIS TIME FLINT SEEMS TO HAVE REALISED SHE’S ON THE TEAM.
I GUESS SHE WAS TOO BUSY LOOKING AT HIKERS FACE TO PAY ATTENTION. “
The crowd’s reaction is a mix of amused applause and enraged booing.
Allegra joins in with the latter before throwing a finger at Mary and stalking off, muttering darkly about ugly half bloods and extreme jealousy.
Alexandra muffles a grin and goes to congratulate her.
—------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, sandwiched between remus and Peter, Sirius Black frowns deeply.
He’s not entirely sure what Garnier has to be smirking about, but it’s genuinely putting him off from his packet of bertie bott’s.
Picking up on the look on his friends face. Peter asks, “Bogey again pads?”
Padfoot glances at him in confusion before sighing, “What are you talking about Peter?”
Peter, naturally annoyed by his friends apparent stupidity just rolls his eyes, “Not much up their behind all that hair of yours, is there?”
Remus snorts from behind his book, and James tears his eyes from the pitch for the first time since the match began. “Honestly Pete, i think i see where you’re coming from.”
Sirius, evidently disgraced by the unprovoked insult, and James’ unwanted agreement, looks up in horror and gives Peter a hard shove.Hard enough that his own sweets fall out of his hands and into Remus’ lap.
The boy is clearly not pleased by this which is why he scowls and says, “Seriously Padfoot, we know you’re bitter about your one sided love and all but do you seriously have to make it all of our problems?”
Sirius is now in a state of utter shock for various reasons.
- Because Remus has suggested he has been unrequited before, which is frankly impossible, seeing as he is THE Sirius Black.
- Because Remus has suggested that he has been unrequited by Garnier of all people, which is also frankly impossible, seeing as he is THE Sirius Black and he would rather snog a toad than suffer such indignity.
- Because Remus has suggested he has been unrequited before, and James and Peter had smirked in agreement, which should have been frankly impossible, seeing as is THE Sirius Black, and they ought to show more respect to their self proclaimed leader.
“No idea what you’re on about mate.” He grumbles, the incredulity very apparent in his voice. “I’ve never so much as looked at her for too long let alone be rejected .” He pulls a face to highlight the very impossible nature of the situation.
“So you spend every minute talking about her for no reason?” Peter asks sceptically, raising his eyebrow.
“Precisely so Wormtail.” Sirius grins patting him on the shoulder, before realising what Peter is insinuating. He withdraws his arm immediately and scowls at him instead. “Oi you twat. I don’t talk about her every minute.”
James picks up an orange bean from Remus’ lap and plops it into his mouth. “Yes you do. You were talking about her all day yesterday.”
“And the day before that.” Remus adds pulling a face at James for eating from his lap.
“And this morning at breakfast.” Peter says thoughtfully. “Almost made me lose my appetite then.”
Sirius tries to glare at three of them, but he quickly becomes light headed, considering there’s three of them and unfortunately he only has two eyes. Instead he settles by grumbling, “You lot are delusional.” Crossing his arms tightly against the harsh winds. “Ought to see madam pomfrey the three of you.”
James lets out a snort, smirking as he lazily tosses another bean into his mouth. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Padfoot."
Remus,closes his book with a sigh and resigns himself to the conversation. He arches an eyebrow in Sirius' direction. "It's alright, you know," he says evenly. "If you fancy her. Garnier's not so bad, really."
James giggles quietly at the suggestion while Sirius’ eyes widen in alarm and what Remus notes is more disgust than necessary, he quickly scoffs, "Not so bad? Are you mad? She’s an absolute nightmare. I don’t fancy her. Never have. Never will."
James rolls his eyes. "Right, because spending half your time complaining about her isn't some kind of sign or anything."
"Exactly," Sirius says pointedly ignoring the sarcasm in James’ voice. "If anything, it’s a sign that she annoys the hell out of me."
“There’s a thin line between love and hate.” Remus mutters, but he’s cut off when Sirius sends a hefty kick to his shin.
“Shut up and watch the match.”
Peter looks entirely unimpressed. "If you say so Sirius," he mumbles sharing a look of pity with James.
Honestly, he should ask them for love advice or something. It’s clear he’s way in over his head.
—-------------------------------
Down below, the match is growing even more brutal, and Alexandra has lost all feeling in her right arm.The rain is pelting down with even more aggression and the already tense match has turned savage. Avery’s shouting only grates on her nerves, but there’s nothing to do about it. She’s too stiff to even tell him to shut up.
She dodges an incoming bludger, courtesy of Langley, and hears the frustrated groans of the Ravenclaw crowd.
“COME ON, RAVENCLAW! YOU CAN STILL DO THIS!” Mary’s voice screeches over the pitch. It’s fun knowing she’s at least energised.
The Ravenclaw team isn’t giving up either. Gilroy’s leading them, their formation tight, even after Lloyd was stretchered off . It’s their last push, their desperation showing as they try to force a way through Slytherin’s own weakening defence.
Mulciber, teeth bared in concentration, sends a jinx flying toward Hiker, but the rain is messing with his aim. Hiker ducks, then counters with a nasty hex of his own, missing Mulciber by mere inches. The air is thick with magic now, and madame hooch has clearly noticed. Her threats are halfhearted though, its clear she wants the match to be over just as much as the next person.
Alexandra turns to shoot what feels like her fortieth glare up at Regulus for taking so long, when a flash of gold whizzes past her face and Regulus zooms toward it.
"WHAT'S THIS? BLACK’S SPOTTED THE SNITCH!” Mary yells, her voice booming. “COME ON, WINTERS! DON’T LET HIM GET IT!”
But Regulus is already diving, cutting through the rain with terrifying speed. Winters doesn’t stand a chance; He’s too far behind.
"NO, NO, NO—!" Mary’s voice is barely heard over the roar of the crowd as Regulus’ hand closes around the Snitch, his face as calm and composed as ever.
The whistle blows. It’s over. Slytherin has won.
“SLYTHERIN TAKES THE MATCH!” Mary’s voice is almost a growl of frustration. “Because OF COURSE Black caught the Snitch—how typical—ugh, but Ravenclaw fought valiantly I suppose!"
The Slytherin stands erupt in cheers, and Alexandra sags down onto her broomstick. She shouldn’t have dismissed the healers so frantically, she’s certain something in her rib is broken.
“You alright Alexandra?” Allegra calls, dismounting her broom and walking towards her. She looks tired and wet, and Alexandra assumes she probably looks worse.
She opens her mouth to reply when Gilroy, angry and apparently not tired, marches straight for Alexandra, squaring her broad shoulders and glaring at her.
You see it’s very hard to be intimidated when your aggressor has a five oclock shadow on her jaw. “Not shaved this morning Gilroy?” She asks, using her broomstick as a crutch.
If Alexandra knew that the Ravenclaw was feeling particularly feisty she’d have kept her mouth shut and told Allegra to do the same. But alas, as usual, nothing goes her way.
“You Slytherin cheats!” She spits, shoving Alexandra hard in the chest and causing her to stumble back.
A flash of pain warps her features as the ache from the bludger comes back witha a vengeance.
“Oi!” Allegra’s voice rings out, livid. She steps between the two “Back off, Mudblood.”
The insult hangs in the air for a moment before Gilroy’s face twists in fury. Before anyone can react her fist flies forward, cracking Allegra straight across the face. Alexandra, stunned by the speed of it all, watches as blood spurts from Allegra’s nose as she crumples to the ground with a gasp.
“AND GILROY JUST PUNCHED FLINT!” Mary’s voice crackles with excitement somewhere far away. “LOOK AT THAT! SERVES HER RIGHT”
The pitch explodes into chaos.
Ravenclaw players rush forward, fists raised, and the Slytherins are quick to retaliate. The pitch erupts into chaos, with shouts, curses, and the sounds of fists connecting with flesh filling the air.
Avery, never one to shy away from a fight, lands a brutal punch on the Ravenclaw Seeker, sending him sprawling to the ground. Alexandra finds herself grappling with Lloyd, trying to wrestle her to the ground as the chaos around them intensifies.
Mulciber lunges forward, tackling Winters, while Langley charges straight for him, throwing a vicious punch at his jaw.
On the other side of the field,Carrington and Rosier immediately join the fray, fists swinging as they take on Hiker and Blackthorn, all four of them rolling around in the mud
"IT'S A FULL-ON FIGHT, EVERYONE!" Mary screams, sounding more thrilled than she has all day. "RAVENCLAW VS. SLYTHERIN IN THE MUD!"
From the stands, Sirius shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s not a fair fight,” he mutters, watching Allegra try to get to her feet, blood dripping from her nose.
“I don’t know what you expected,” James says, sitting forward with a wicked grin. “You know Gilroy hates losing.”
“And she wonders why i won’t to Hogsmeade with her.”
James snorts, “I reckon she’s only asked you to be nice mate, not looking like you have much of a choice, with that left hook.”
Remus watches with mild horror and barely concealed amusement, his book forgotten. “They’re going to get themselves expelled.”
Mary’s commentary rings out again, “OH, AND HERE COMES GARNIER, IT’S LOOKING LIKE SHE’S GOT HER WAND OUT, WATCH OUT RAVENCLAW SHE KNOWS A COUPLE NASTY HEXES, ISN’T THAT RIGHT SIRIUS?”
Sirius rolls his eyes, too focused on the fight below to respond.
Down on the pitch, Alexandra has drawn her wand, ready to hex Gilroy after the kick to her ribs. She’s had enough. One good curse and—
But before she can even summon the strength to say the words, someones hand clamps firmly around her wrist, preventing her from making the movement.
She has half a mind to hex the whole student body now that she’s been manhandled too many times within the past five minutes, when a steady voice behind her says, “Don’t.”
She rolls her eyes at the familiar sound. “Get off me Black.” She says, breaking out of his grip.
He doesn’t even react. “It’s not worth wasting your energy.”
For tense moment, she considers hexing him and doing it anyway, but his eyes meet hers and a cold bath of reason washes over her.
Reluctantly, she lowers her wand.
Mary’s voice screeches again, “Oh COME ON! GARNIER'S PUTTING HER WAND AWAY? WHAT A LETDOWN! REGULUS BLACK EVER THE KILLJOY—"
Before she can say anything more, there’s a sharp crack as Professor McGonagall storms up to the commentator’s booth, her face red and furious.
"Miss MacDonald!" McGonagall’s voice rings out, seizing the microphone from a startled Mary. “This is not a spectator sport! You are supposed to remain neutral as a commentator!”
The crowd’s murmurs die down slightly as McGonagall’s voice booms over the stands, scolding not only the students but the unfolding brawl below. “ENOUGH! All of you, back to the castle—immediately!”
Numerous groans of disappointment can be heard as the fight begins to fizzle out. Players, limp off the pitch nursing bruises and glares.
Avery and Rosier pull back from Hiker, though not without sending a few sneers his way. Mulciber reluctantly lets go of Langley, wiping blood from his lip, and Gilroy throws one last murderous glare at Allegra before backing off.
Alexandra exhales, feeling the ache in her ribs as she tucks her wand away. Regulus finally releases her wrist, giving her a pointed look before walking off to join his team.
She sends him her own look, before making her way over to Allegra, who’s holding her nose in horror, the blood smeared across her face not making the seen any better. “I swear when i get my hands on that Mudblood i’m going to kill it.”
She shudders a bit at her tone and instead reaches over to help her up. “Bloody Ravenclaws are just sore losers.” She mutters. “Let’s get you to the hospital wing.”
“I mean it, you know.” She starts, and Alexandra eyes her wearily. “I’m going to ruin her for what she did to my face.”
“Yeah.” Alexandra hums, slightly put off by the dark turn in conversation. “I bet you will.”
Together, they begin the slow walk back to the castle, the rain soaking their robes as whatevers left of the Slytherin stands cheer behind them, celebrating their victory in the mud-soaked aftermath.
"That was quite the display," McGonagall mutters as she watches the players retreat, shaking her head. “You’d think they were raised by trolls.”