The Snake-Pit (Albus Potter x OC)

5

I couldn't stop thinking about it. The kiss. It was a peck but it happened. Albus Potter kissed me. Its a distinct fact. I had nothing to do with it, I was simply an unwilling participant. Not only that but he'd ruined my pride...I hardly put up a fight. Its so shameful. 

Lying on the plush leather couch in the Slytherin common room seemed like the perfect place to think it over. That's what I do when something confuses me, I analyse it until I can make sense of it. But however long I stared into the fireplace it didn't (excuse the pun) shed any light on it.

I had only kissed one other boy in my entire life and that was Sean Finnegan. I actually loved the git and we dated for a year, all of fifth year to be exact. Until, I realised he was only dating me because he was a mega fan of the Irish quidditch team. He was more excited to meet my dad over paying any real attention to me. It was the first time I hated being famous. Of course considering how Irish Sean is I should've seen it coming but...I loved him. Even though he was a half blood I was willing to overlook it.

So, sixth year I gave up on boys all together. And this year? well, I was just more preoccupid with other things. Like articles and Captain vacancies. I rolled my head lazily from the fire and  to Amelia. She bit her lip in concentration as she traced some runes. I'm sure at this point its not even study anymore and her idea of fun. I sighed. "Do you think its weird that Albus Potter has never had a girlfriend?".

She shrugged. "Heard rumors he was shagging Clemette Mclaggen on and off last year".

I gaged. "The Gryffindor?"

She rose her head and eyed me warily. "Why, Is there another Clemette Mclaggen in this school?".

I rolled my eyes. "Its just shes so...".

She smiled. "Annoying?, unpleasant?...a disgrace to women?"

I shrugged. "Slut works too".

She shook her head at me lightly and punched my arm. "We don't call other women sluts. We're above such names".

And yet, she calls people mudbloods on a daily basis. Besides, Mclaggen is a slut. I clicked my tongue in annoyance. "Do you think he has a type?".

It was the wrong thing to say because she immedietly put her book down and gave me a pointed look. "Should we get you a membership?".

I blanched. "No!. Its just someone like...say Crabbe. You wouldn't think a slytherin girl would be his type, right?".

Amelia gazed brifley at Suzie stuffing her face with tart. She then licked her face and then started licking her hands like a dog. Amelia quickly turned back around before she shook her head at me. "I dont think Crabbe is any man's ideal type...ever".

I exhaled and closed my eyes. "Fair, bad example."

I could feel her eyeing me. "Is this about the revenge plan?".

It can be if she'll give me some insight as to why Potter, a near stranger kissed me. I nodded. "It is, I need to know his ideal type to corrupt him but Mclaggan hardly counts".

Honestly I'm offended that I've kissed the same boy that Mclaggen has. I could've caught something!.

She shrugged. "He only ever associates with his family. No girlfriends, unlike his brother".

I nodded. Albus Potter, the anomaly. The boy who pretends to be the spitting image of his father, personality and all except for the colour of his robes. And no else knows hes the devil in disguise but me. 

****

By Sunday every man and his elf had a copy of quidditch quartly. Both Albus and I had made the cover. We were back to back like rivals. It was the gossip here at hogwarts but whats worse is that its not just here, but everywhere. As if to remind me I had hundreds of fan letters of people who idealised my family from all over the world owling me. 

It got to the point that Slughorn had charmed all letters to my dormitory as the slytherins couldn't eat their meals without fan-mail falling into their food. The whole time I avioded Potter like the plague or if I was forced to face him I glared openly while he smirked coyly.

However tryouts were today and after a long letter from my parents I knew it was make the team or don't come home. I stood proudly on the pitch, I'd braided my hair for added confidence but honestly this is just for show. Theres no way I won't make the team. I'm simply the best in the entire school and all these pathetic hopefulls around me know it.

"Just wanted to say you're an inspiration. Doesn't matter what they posted. You're still going to win us the cup".

It was a squeaky voice and I had to look down slightly at the First year?...no a small second year. I grimaced through what I'm sure wasn't supposed to hit home. "Uh..thanks".

He beamed at me and blushed before running over towards the beater groups. I winced, kid doesn't have a chance inn hell, espcially how we play. Dirty, our team always plays dirty and why not?, it adds a bit of fun. Can't aim for someone's head in the major leagues but in school? 'Sorry Professor, My writst slipped'. And literally no repercussions. 

I of course play chaser. Have been since second year, the same year both Potter and Malfoy joined the team. I won't lie, Potter isn't a shit player. Some might even say he's got a bit of talent. He's no prodigy though and Malfoy?....I mean he made the team and that should be a compliment in its self. 

I usually played chaser with Higgs and Montegue. Both graduated last year which means two chaser slots are open. And the hopefull chasers?....are literally taking up a whole set of stands. I guess its an honour in the quidditch world to play next to Tara Flint or anyone with that last name.

Potter chose that moment to come out, a clipboard in hand while Malfoy flanked his side. They both looked around the pitch before their eyes noticed the stand packed to the brim full of chaser hopefulls. Its roughly fifty students. 

I watched as Potter's casual bored and brooding face morphed into an expression of dread. This has just added an extra two hours onto our tryouts. I coughed innocently and Potter's emerald eyes snapped to me while I leant against my broom. "Guess that article worked Captain. Who knew everyone would want to be a chaser?".

He sneered as if I was a fowel creature that had just walked out of the black lake. And then he tipped his head at me. "Good thing too. We need some new talent". 

I didn't even have time to retort before he blew his whistle in my damn face!. He nodded to a group of students towards the front. "First Up, Beaters. Twenty laps, Now!". 

I sat down on the grass and watched half actually start and the other half fumble with their brooms pathetically. Ah yes, let the madness of try-outs begin.