/𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒\ [𝒔. 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌]

𝟑.𝟙𝟙.𝟣

"you are a wonderful creation. You know more than you think you know, just as you know less than you want to know." ~ Oscar Wilde

~may 1974~

Quidditch practice was still brutal, but now that the weather was warm, the team at least had a crowd of spectators to watch them work. It was encouraging for most, a reason to play a little better than usual. Frank made a particularly impressive goal, whooped, then swooped down to where Dorcas and Alice were doing homework in the stands. "Hey, Fortescue! Heads up!"

Alice grinned at him as he flew overhead and reached a hand out to high-five the star chaser. "Nice one!"

"Eyes out of the books, Meadowes!" Frank called as he soared off. "You're missing everything!"

"It's just a practice," muttered Dorcas, enthralled by her Defense Against the Dark Arts notes.

Alice rolled her eyes and closed Dorcas's notebook. "Put it away for five minutes. You work too hard."

"I get the grades I work for," Dorcas muttered, but she stowed her notebook away in her backpack and gazed up at the commotion overhead. Mitchell was telling off Emmeline for hogging the quaffle. Dorcas frowned. "He shouldn't be yelling at her, he should be putting her on the team permanently. She's the best they've got."

Alice grinned, remembering how much she loved Dorcas when she wasn't obsessing over her studies. "What, you got a thing for her or something?"

"Alice!" Dorcas laughed, shoving her friend playfully. "I don't have a thing for every girl I compliment. And Em's, like, two years younger than us. She's a kid, of course I don't have a thing for her."

"Well, you never talk to me about girls!" said Alice, shoving Dorcas back. "I talk about this stuff all the time and you never do."

Dorcas rolled her eyes. "That's because I'm not constantly love-sick over people I can't have. What? Too far?" She was grinning mischievously.

"All I'm saying is that Mitch McKinnon is really hot," Alice protested.

"Then go get him!"

Alice threw her head back laughing. "Definitely not. He likes jock-type girls. And you're changing the subject. Come on, there's got to be one girl you're interested in."

Dorcas shrugged. "I dunno... Rita Skeeter's pretty hot."

Alice's laughter rang through the half-filled stands. "And you say I go for people I can't have! Rita's a seventh year, Dorc, and from what I hear, she's a total bitch."

"Doesn't make her less hot," Dorcas said nonchalantly.

When practice was over, Dorcas and Alice idled outside the stands with a crowd of people waiting for the players to come out. Frank was the first and he headed right for the girls, a tired, but nonetheless enthusiastic grin on his face. "How'd I play?" he asked, tilting his head at them.