𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼𝗰𝗸, harry potter

˗ˋ 89

CHAPTER EIGHTY NINE
✧
-: fifth year :-

── IN WHICH THE MORNING
OF THE MATCH ARRIVES

. . .

Soon enough, Dumbledore's Army meetings became the absolute norm, slipping into the routine of their life at Hogwarts amidst Quidditch practises and lessons, late night study sessions and masses of Homework, and October came to an end with a sudden transition to November autumn. Seemingly constant drizzle, orange leaves falling to their death beneath trees, a fog over the peak of the nearby mountains, and the atmosphere entirely grey with the promise of dark mornings and early evenings.

On the morning of the first Quidditch match, Aviana awoke to find herself unreasonable excited, dressed entirely in the colours of her house, complete with the silver and emerald scarf. In high spirits, she made her way to the Great Hall – Blaise had decided it would be a necessity to force her to eat to secure their imminent success - and decided upon a break to finding annoyance with each and every one of her friends and house-mates.

"Here she is!" Apparently their captain, Montague was particularly confident prior to the match, all but cheering as she appeared at the breakfast table. "Our star chaser... shut up Pucey, you know she's got nothing on you."

"Gets distracted now, doesn't he?" Aviana agreed, sending a wink in Adrian's direction, watching him shake his head in supposed disapproval. "Better not let our Captain get a glimpse of you staring gormlessly over at me like you do during our practises, a match against Gryffindor actually means something, you know."

"I'm fully aware." Adrian drew himself up haughtily, and took it upon himself to direct his all-too nervous energy at poor Montague's girlfriend, who was watching the ordeal with disapproval. "Might want to tone it down a tad, Graham, Audrey isn't looking best please with you this morning."

"She doesn't get Quidditch." Montague shook his head, before glancing around and pulling her to the side, away from the table. Amongst the hubbub, Blaise appeared, already covered in emerald green and silver, and barged past Draco and Theo, who were already talking tactics as Aviana supposed Montague was about to do, and held out a plate of toast. "Not now, Zabini." Montague told him. "I need to talk to her about-"

"Quidditch, I suppose?" Blaise drawled. "Then talk at her, I'm sure she'll enjoy that as she eats her toast."

"As I'm sure she's enjoying being spoken about as though she's not even there." Aviana replied, rolling her eyes. Blaise said nothing, shoving the plate into her hands and disappearing. "Thanks, I suppose." Aviana replied, and took a bite. "What is it you want to talk about?"

"I've told the rest of the team already, but I think its time we focus on you this match." Montague began.

"Won't complain." Aviana said, already finishing a slice. She felt slightly ill from the exhilaration of it all, and needed to get it all down as quickly as possible. "Why, exactly?"

"Well..." Montague didn't further explain, which annoyed her, but her directed her towards the Gryffindor table. "Weasley looks like he's about to shit himself or chuck his guts up, and according to your records, since you've begun playing-"

"I've scored more goals than the rest of the Chasers combined." Aviana revelled in the pleasure of her knowledge. A certainty that if she was going to do anything, she was going to do well. "Yes, I'm well aware."

"We need that energy this match, need you to keep it up, and scoring against Weasley will be easy. Reckon we could go for the record." Montague said in her ear, the only way for anyone to be heard, and as she slowly nodded in agreement, it appeared that the group of three in the midst of the gathering around Gryffindor table noticed her presence.

Harry met her eyes first, before glancing up at Ron, who seemed all the more terrified when he realised she was looking directly at him, his friend most likely spewing some garbage about how he shouldn't worry, and that he was a good keeper. Ron had been nice enough to her, definitely more welcoming that Hermione's consistent pout, but this was different, it was Quidditch.

"Now, I've heard about this whole thing with Potter-"

"Just because we're shagging doesn't mean I'm going to play any differently." Aviana stated, plainly. "Is it not obvious enough that I have the ability to completely separate any prior feelings according to the stakes. For instance, your hand has been on my shoulder for the past five minutes and I've not said a word, even though usually I find you completely vile and wouldn't go anywhere near you with a ten foot broom?"

"Got it." Montague backed away, getting the message surprisingly quickly considering majority of the time he was as gormless as a troll. "I'll let you eat; we have to go to the pitch soon."

"Thanks." Aviana replied, before returning to where her friends were sat.

"You look excited, Avi." Pansy left where she was hanging off of Draco's arm, for some reason.

"Yes, I'm about to play Quidditch properly for the first time in a year, of course I'm excited." Aviana said, pushing past to the pile of something glinting silver on the table. "What are these?" She asked Draco, as she picked one up. It was a badge, shaped like a crown.

"Weasley is our King." Draco shrugged, his smile particularly malicious for that early in the morning. "Why, not planning on wearing one."

"I didn't say that, don't be a dickhead." Aviana said, as she finished the last of her toast.

Montague seemed to take the sign of the girl pinning the crown to her jumper as sign to rouse his team, and ahead of the Gryffindors, they began to make their way down to the pitch.

✧

a/n
might have to start 
combining chapters and make 
them longer, because this is 
getting ridiculous