❝HOW COME YOU NEVER TRIED FOR SEEKER?❞
❝I ENJOYED AIMING BLUDGERS AT YOU TOO MUCH.❞
The Gryffindor Quidditch Team finally has some real competition. And Harry Potter is totally conflicted.
warning: this book has many mature, NSFW scenes that contrib...
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REST IN PEACE to Severus Snape, of course, but Indiana had never been more grateful for a man's death. As bad as it sounds, with his death came a new line of opportunity for Indiana Jones. The slimy git, despite all of her efforts, had refused to even consider her for Quidditch Captain. Couldn't he see she was the best on the team?
Quidditch provided her with a sense of familiarity, superiority, and adrenaline that nothing else could supply (yes, she had tried other things; whatever strange Muggle substance her friends gave her just didn't suffice). The sport had been ingrained albeit forcefully into her brain from a young age, courtesy of her dearest darling father, Jack Jones, who had played for the Montrose Magpies for the major part of his life. She could ride a broom before she could speak, really, and anyone who watched her play could easily spot her natural talent, thank-you-very-much.
First years weren't allowed to play for the House Quidditch Teams at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and despite this very, very strict rule, her father insisted she find some sort of loophole. And she almost did, whether it be tossing about Neville Longbottom's Remembrall (with the help of Draco Malfoy, of course) across the sky during her first Flying Lesson, or staying late after every Potions class to try and convince Professor Snape to just let the rule slide. And what was worse — Harry fucking Potter had managed to snag a spot of the Gryffindor team during that same exact year. Mind you, he was also a first year. Why was he the exception? She was just as good, she thought, if not better.
With the death of Severus Snape came a stream of opportunity. Professor Horace Slughorn, the man who had taken over as Potions Master during her sixth year, had just so happened taken over the role of Head of Slytherin House once seventh year started. This meant that Slughorn was in charge of Quidditch Captain. Halle-fucking-lujah.
The majority of the students in her year had returned for their seventh and final year of education after the end of the second Wizarding War, and she could only pray that Slughorn would see that she really was the only one fit to be Captain. (Perhaps Blaise Zabini, one of her closest friends, would be a decent option, but even he knew that she deserved the role).
Her father hadn't been pleased when he found out that Harry Potter had managed to get on a house team during first year and not his daughter. She had known that well enough when she went home for the Holidays that year; poor Simon, her younger brother, had witnessed it.
But in spite in all of the hardships, her relationship with Quidditch had turned out alright in the end. And with the end of the second Wizarding War, it acted as a surprisingly healthy coping mechanism to deal with the recent death of her mother, Serena Jones. She was hit with a Choking Curse during the final battle, succumbing to brain damage only a matter of minutes before the battle ended. Indiana never quite got over it. She didn't think she ever would. And if Quidditch didn't help, god knows a cigarette (or two) would.