Entanglement

3. Snakes versus Lions

TW: gameplay violence, blood, injuries, mental illness

I saw it happen before I could react.

Mirren flew at Blaise double-quick forcing him to dodge, taking his focus off the quaffle. She raced past him when he evaded her, rather than slowing to turn around and enter the thick of the game. Instead, she made her way above where the majority of the players were flying and appeared to simply...watch the game for a moment before chasing one of her own teammates. I took a deep breath and began my hunt.

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No matter how me and Andre communicated wordlessly across the pitch, we couldn't manage to get a bludger to find its mark on Mirren. Blaise and the other chasers were doing a phenomenal job racking up points, as the score swayed but neither team getting more than 20 or so points ahead at any given time. The other Slytherin players were being incredibly careful to avoid the attacks from the Gryffindors and miraculously, no one had been taken out yet.

I had discovered how she had gotten so fast over the summer. She was riding a Firebolt. Even a quidditch amateur would recognize one if they caught a close enough glimpse and know that they are one of the fastest brooms in the world. It made her really fucking hard to keep an eye on. Just a quick blink and she'd be on the other side of the pitch and out of harm's way. I had already watched her practically drag a couple of the other players with her to avoid an oncoming chaser or bludger. She really was one of the best beaters I had ever seen.

I furiously watched on as Blaise and the other two Slytherin chasers passed the quaffle back and forth between themselves, almost making a game of monkey-in-the-middle as Weasley and her fellow chasers tried to snatch the ball from their seemingly careless tosses. I found myself wishing I had the guts to call out Blaise for his behaviour. We had spent countless hours preparing for, quite literally, this very day, and here he was, playing.

Behind them in the near distance, I saw Mirren pick up speed and aim right for the little game happening no more than a couple dozen yards from me.

As I began to dash towards Blaise with no plan on how I was possibly going to help, I noticed Andre signalling to me from across the pitch. He pointed with his bat into the distance, and I saw what he was getting at. A bludger was about to be within his reach. I watched as it streaked towards him, and he lifted his beater's bat. My eyes glanced at Mirren as I made sure to note how quickly she was gaining speed so I couldn't miss my mark. Andre knocked the bludger in my direction and at the perfect angle no less. My brain hastily did some approximate calculations as I prepared to send it towards the one victim I had during this entire match.

My breath began to steady as I positioned myself to send it through her body and attempt the only goal of the entire Slytherin team. I was going to do it. I was going to knock Mirren Leandra off her cursed broom and take her out of quidditch for good. My heart briefly swelled with pride as I, for once, felt confident in my actions.

I steadied myself in place but didn't raise my bat right away. I didn't want Mirren to see me and have a chance to dodge the bludger. I had to wait until the last second to give her every disadvantage possible. I saw Andre in the distance watching me. Even from this far away, I could sense his tension as he kept himself still, making sure he didn't miss our moment of glory.

My eyes were trained on the ball hurtling towards me. As close to the last second before it crashed into me as I could muster, I pivoted my broom and swung my bat with the ferocity of all my pent-up anger. The crack it made against the bludger caused my ears to ring as its velocity had been directed seamlessly towards my prey. Amazingly, Mirren didn't notice. She continued her race towards Blaise who was still thoughtlessly toying with the Gryffindor chasers. I hated how overly confident he seemed to be in this moment. He had stressed to all of us, time and time again, how important this match would be until he was practically blue in the face.

The bludger could not miss. I did not stop doing the math as I watched it charge towards her, waiting for the impending outcome of mine and Andre's teamwork. My heart skipped a beat at the brief thought that maybe, just maybe, this was what it would take for Blaise to rethink his decision earlier this year.

And then I heard it.

One of the Gryffindor players released a shout directly out of the mouth of a giant from over my shoulder. I couldn't make out exactly what they had yelled, but Mirren had heard them too and that was all she needed.

She didn't cease her flight towards Blaise, but she had spotted the bludger and kept her eyes fixed upon it as it approached her with almost an eagerness to break bones. I wouldn't look away as she hastily lifted her feet onto her broom handle and pushed herself off. The bludger whizzed under her feet as she pulled them up, just barely getting her toes out of the way of impending doom. As she landed, her legs wrapped around her Firebolt, and she hung upside down with her free hand catching a vice-like grip on her broom. I saw no fear or hesitation in her face as she extended both her arms to their full lengths. Just as she was about to pass over Blaise tormenting the red-donned chasers, her limb desperately stretched as her fist clutching the bat hit the quaffle out of its intended direction, and towards Holly Pembrooke of the Gryffindor house.

I followed her with my stare as she continued on to the edge of the pitch. My heart instantly began to pick up speed as I realized the gravity of what I had just done and what it meant. Blaise caught my eyes, and he gave me a look that I knew meant I was going to be doing sprints for days. He charged after Pembrooke who had already made progress towards the Slytherin hoops.

My torso began to twist with the discomfort of throwing out any hope of Blaise and I reconciling. I'd be lucky if he didn't kick me off tomorrow morning. My pounding heart made my head swirl, and I dug my nails into my bat, miserably attempting to stop myself from having an attack in the middle of the match.

When I looked up, I noticed another player who was also stationary on the pitch.

Mirren Leandra was glaring at me from where she was sitting on her broom. She held the beater's bat under her arm and the broom handle cautiously in her other palm. I spotted her empty hand and noticed it didn't look quite right. My eyes grew wide as I clocked that a couple of her fingers were not bending the correct way and it was trembling wildly. Bright, red blood was soaking her glove and dripped slowly from her tensed hand to the ground beneath her.

She had given herself an incredibly painful injury just to get her team the advantage. As my gaze met hers again, everything stopped: the sound of the crowd around me, my pounding head, the beating of my heart, and my breathing. I sharply inhaled as her expression softened and she gave me a little smirk and flew back towards the action of the match.

When our eye contact broke everything came rushing back. The Gryffindor house was still screaming after seeing Mirren manage that amazing stunt. I sat back on my broom and ran a hand through my hair. She was injured. I hadn't done it directly, but I had caused that injury. If I hadn't sent that bludger careening towards her, she wouldn't have struggled to knock the quaffle off course.

If Blaise didn't kill me after the game, the Gryffindor team certainly would.