The Founders

Chapter 23

Slytherin won the first match of the season, for the first time in four years. It was an extremely close match, meaning that Gryffindor weren't completely out of the running yet. Also, their keeper and best goal scorer had gotten into a brawl a few days before the match and had been unable to play, meaning that it wasn't a completely fair match.

Still, Grace had scored a few spectacular goals towards the end, and Kyra had screamed herself hoarse. It had started to rain half way through the match in miserable, erratic gusts and everyone was wind- blown, damp and cold by the end.

It was a relief when the referee had finally blown the whistle, the snitch caught in the Slytherin seeker's fist, and she could trip her way down the slick stairs of the stands, Oscar in tow, pushing through the dense crush of the crowd.

Finally breaking free from the crush and onto the pitch, Kyra headed towards the changing rooms to meet Grace while Oscar went back to the castle to secure them drinks for the Slytherin party. He was usually part of the unofficial party commission, regardless of the house hosting.

She lounged against the wall of the changing rooms cabin, waiting for Grace to come out and watching groups of people straggle back towards the castle, holding umbrellas or their house scarves over their heads. Under the overhang of the roof, she was relatively dry.

She reflected that, at this point, house passwords were pretty much obsolete since there were only four of them, rarely changed, and they were constantly shared with other houses when organising parties. Oscar, especially, could always be counted on to know the password to every house since he was friends with just about everyone in their year.

He had the uncanny ability to put people at ease simply by acting as if they were old friends, as if it were without question that he wanted to be spending that time with them. This led to him being the unsuspecting recipient of a lot of trauma-dumping with people he wasn't very close with. Grace found it pretty funny that Oscar was the year's therapist. He could make friends with a tree, she said.

Grace spilled out of the changing rooms with the rest of the team, chatting excitedly, her hair wet and brushed back. She made a noise suspiciously close to a squeal and rushed at Kyra, hugging her around the waist and swinging her about. Kyra laughed loudly, hitting Grace on the shoulder to make her put her down.

They all made their way as a group, loud and straggling, back to the castle. The match had dragged on for hours and they had had to have a break for lunch. although it was only about three o'clock, the day was s overcast that dark clouds created an artificial dusk, shot through with a few oil-painted yellow sunbeams.

"Where's Kat?" Kyra asked, looking around. Kat was seeker for the Gryffindor team and so was probably very angry at herself for letting the first snitch of the season slip through her fingers.

"Probably drowning herself in the showers," Grace responded as they reached the steps to the great door, taking them two at a time. Kyra was amazed that she wasn't shattered from hours of quidditch, but then again, Grace had always been more resilient than Kyra. Even as children, it would be Grace dragging Kyra around to run races or go flying.

"But she's still coming to the party, right?" Kyra asked, ignoring Grace's dramatics.

"To drown her sorrows, sure," Grace shrugged.

"Schadenfreude is not an attractive look." Kyra gave Grace a pointed look as they entered the entrance hall.