𝑨𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒕 - ʜᴊᴘ x ᴏᴄ [𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆&𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆]

𝟏𝟓

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ʀᴜᴍᴏᴜʀꜱ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Cassie Black sauntered onto the Quidditch pitch like she was fashionably late to her own party—because, in her opinion, she was the main event. The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the grass, but she wasn't paying attention to the scenery. She had bigger priorities, like flying circles around the rest of the team and making Flint's life just a little more miserable.

"You're late," Marcus Flint growled, arms crossed, already looking like he regretted existing in the same space as her.

Cassie gave him an easy grin, twirling her broom in her hand. "And yet, here I am. Tragic for you, really."

A few of the team members snorted, trying to hide their amusement. Flint scowled. "Just get in the air, Black."

"As you wish, Captain," she drew, throwing in an exaggerated salute before kicking off the ground.

The second her feet left the earth, she felt at home. Flying was effortless, natural—like she was born with the sky in her veins. She shot upward, weaving between teammates like it was a lazy afternoon joyride instead of Quidditch practice. Below, a group of first-years in Slytherin scarves watched from the stands, whispering. Cassie smirked. She had that effect on people.

Practice was brutal, but Cassie barely broke a sweat. Flint shouted orders, and she followed them—sort of. She dodged Bludgers at the last second just to keep things interesting, tossed the Quaffle like she was playing a casual game of catch, and generally made everything look unfairly easy.

"Black!" Flint bellowed after she narrowly avoided getting hit. "Would it kill you to take this seriously?"

Cassie caught the Quaffle one-handed and lazily flipped it into the hoop. "Probably not," she said. "But why risk it?"

By the time practice wrapped up, most of the team was exhausted. Cassie? She was just getting started. She landed lightly on the ground, stretching her arms behind her head while the others limped toward the locker rooms.

Adrian Pucey jogged up beside her, shoving her shoulder. "You see the Prophet this morning?"

Cassie's grin was all teeth. "I did. Apparently, I'm a disgrace to my family name and a bad influence on my peers. Best review I've had yet."

Pucey laughed. "Did you actually read it?"

"Of course not. I skimmed for insults worth keeping. Bit of a weak showing, honestly. I've had howlers from my dear relatives that were way more creative."

"You should frame it," he said.

"Already considering it," she mused. "Might send a copy to my grandparents. Signed, of course. Make it personal."