ADOMANIA

1~Weasley Records

Marbella

It was a gloomy day to be a Quidditch player. My worn leather gloves were letting all of the cold air into my hands and thought I had made sure to put on more warm clothing I could feel myself slowly being turned into a living icicle.

It also didn't help that it was seven in the morning on a Sunday. Me and the six other players had been hovering in the air for almost two hours now, after having to take the morning pitch because of the Gryffindors.

It was only my first day back but I had insisted on going to practice, eager to get playing with the familiar people, despite professor Dumbledore's disagreement on the matter. In Beauxbatons, they didn't play Quidditch. At least not in a way I'm used to.  And even though I am a little rusty right now, that isn't stopping me from getting my authority in the team back.

The Slytherin team consisted of seven players. Captain and the Co were Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey, both good friends of mine. The keeper had also stayed the same and I was glad to see Miles Bletchey wearing the helmet proudly. Much to my dismay both of the Beaters had been replaced with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Together they were so clumsy that they could make a mountain troll look graceful. And even though I think that a Seeker is not always a necessity, the post was still held by Draco Malfoy, the most spoiled little prick that I'd ever met. 

And now that I was back at the home pitch, Montague was kicked off the team so that I could get the spot. Sacrifices had to be made.

As a chaser it is my job to get the Quaffle past the keeper and through the goalpost. Thankfully I shared this position with Adrian and Marcus because it really wasn't a one person job. Other than our beaters, the team was decent and we knew how to work together. Sure someone had got into a fistfight a couple of times and this had only been my  first training session with this group but that's just one part of the whole thing.

We were beginning to near the end of our training and I was set on making one more goal. I was going in a rapid pace on my broom when I could see a tuft of white hair threateningly approaching, coming straight towards me. The Quaffle I had in my hand was slowing me down, and it really looked like Draco wasn't going to stop so I had to drop the ball. It seemed that Draco had lost control of his broom and was just heading in a straight line and I had to make a sharp dive towards the ground, nearly causing me to slide off of the broom. 

Before I would hit the ground I had to turn sideways and try to direct the broom upwards again so that I could regain control. 

After I'd calmed my self and the broom, I heard Marcus calling us down and didn't hesitate to touch my feet down onto the field and immediately started marching towards the Malfoy boy.

My hands were full of blisters, it was cold, my braid had came undone and I was starting to get a headache from the goggles; meaning that I really did not feel like getting mauled by Malfoy because he couldn't control his broom.

The boy was already yelling in my direction and I couldn't even hear what he was saying but by the way his face was starting to take on the colour of cherry red I could tell he wasn't very pleased. I was ready to blow his head off.

He started first "Are you mental!" Completely disregarding his broom he didn't take long to reach me and as he did he poked my chest with an accusing finger insinuating each word of his. "You almost fucking killed me!"

"Me?" I yelled back at him, matching his tone of voice. "I'm not the one who's incompetent in keeping their broom in line." I hit his fingers away and forcefully pushed him off of me making him stumble to the ground. Like I said, fights weren't a rare occasion when playing with the  Slytherins and I was no exception.