Y/N and Oliver were best friends. They had known each other their whole lives. Not to mention they were neighbors. But going to Hogwarts changed everything. He is Gryffindor. She is Slytherin. Rival Quidditch Keepers. The friendship is gone...
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Y/N
The first Slytherin quidditch practice of the season is cold and rainy. The overcast adds a sluggishness to all of my movements, making me off my game this morning. It also seems to be affecting the rest of the team as well. Everyone is flying around in a daze.
Except Flint.
He is his usual self, flying around and barking orders to move faster or pass the quaffle more. So far the chasers, including Flint, have not been able to get anything past me. I'm not sure if that is because they are just really sucking today or because I'm somehow, through the fog of my mind, managing to perform at a reasonable level.
I look down the pitch and see the chasers getting into formation. The quaffle is flying back and forth between them. Flint gets the last catch and comes screaming towards me. I watch him closely, but I keep getting distracted by what happened in class a few weeks ago. His anger and rage that genuinely scared me.
Focus Y/N.
He gets close enough that I can see him contemplating his next move. He's usually known for shooting at the top hoop, so I hold my ground, floating a little lower below it, but close enough that I can speed up in time. He raises the ball as he still flies straight at me, but then, he does something I didn't count on. He dives. Like he's going to crash in the ground below. I dip down so I can get a better look.
He's not there.
Spinning around I try to find out where he went, but it's too late. He whips around from behind me and chucks the ball into the lower right hoop. The rest of the chasers fly up and start cheering for him as he floats up to meet me.
"You need to be more focused Y/L/N," he says sternly.
My eyes roll, "I am. You're just pulling shenanigans."
"And you think the Gryffindor's aren't going to," He bites back.
We both lower ourselves down to the ground. The frustration is building in me.
"Oh I know they will, it's just..."
"You think they're going to take it easy on you because you're screwing the Captain. Isn't that right?," he spats at me and starts to walk away.
I storm after him. "I am not screwing anyone Marcus, so shut the bloody hell up, " my voice is filled to the brim with anger, "and I don't expect special treatment just because I'm dating Oliver."
He turns on his heels and starts storming towards me. I can feel the eyes of the rest of the team on me and it's making me uncomfortable.
"You're a Slytherin," he says, "don't ever forget that. Your loyalties are to this team and your house. Not the Gryffindors and not him."
The way he says him, sounds like he's spitting out venom. My body is starting to shake. A mixture of the cold and the rage building within me. There is still pleasantly of fear bubbling below the surface, but I know this can't go on.
