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CHAPTER NINE | HOW TO BE A HEARTBREAKER
MARE LIKED HER DREAMS OF THE UNINTERRUPTED VIARIETY. She'd been on a beach in Greece, surrounded by a hunky Greek god of a man that was oiled up and feeding her the most succulent grapes. They were backlit by an orange sunset and tranquil waves; the dream was perfect, expect for the earthquake that struck them every few moments just as they were about to kiss. Why must mother nature have it out for her—? And why did mother nature sound an awful lot like her twin sister? Dreams were silly like that, she supposed. . .
Bea forced her twin out of bed way too early but with the promise that she had a plan that could secure Hufflepuff the Quidditch Cup before their season had even officially started. All you needed to say to get Mare out bed in the mornings was the word 'Quidditch' and she'd allow her slumber to be cut short. That's not to say she wasn't filled with skepticism on how Bea, a witch who could barely stay upright on a broom, had concocted a scheme that would give Hufflepuff the upper hand. But hey, crazier things happened at this school (i.e. the two days out of the year when Severus Snape would wash his slimy hair).
Within the confines of their dorm, while Mare groggily dragged a brush through her untameable locks, did Bea explain her plan. "I was discussing with Dawn in Herbology—" because, apparently, they chat shit in class together now, "—and we reckon that everyone should dump him just before the Quidditch game," she said, grinning at her sister through the mirror. She tried to look past how unsettling her smile was. "Like one big coordinated attack, leave him vulnerable."
"Right. . ." Mare took a moment to process this information, the strokes of her brush momentarily paused, "and then what?"
Bea rolled her eyes. "Well," she started, as if her reasoning was obvious, "James Potter always plays like shit whenever he asks Lily Evans out before a game and she rejects him. So, imagine that but being dumped four times?"
It was cruel, she'd admit but it's not like Sirius didn't deserve it. She cast her gaze over to her bedside table. The yellow captaincy badge shone against the morning sunlight that crept through their windows and Mare perused her lips. No advantage was a fair one, was it? And Gryffindor had their fair share of them, anyways (i.e. James Potter's dad supplying the team with brand new brooms last year—not everyone had living fathers to do so). It's not like Sirius was even their key play maker so, sabotaging him a little bit wasn't going to be that much of an advantage to the team they were versing (besides, it'd be different if Hufflepuff were the ones playing today—Ravenclaw was never much of a threat in the cup). The annoying sound of Milo's snivelling voice echoed in the back of her mind and she finally looked at Bea. "You should break up with him last," she just said. "Do it at half-time."
