Something happens and I'm head over heels ~ Starchaser ~

-Chapter 8-

SONG OF THE CHAPTER: "i was all over her" - Salvia Palth

REGGIE SPAGETTI POV:

"Reg, come on eat something, the final Quidditch game is today!" Evan said from next to me, clicking in front of my eyes to get my attention, in response i just sighed and lay down my clean fork as i had no intent in toughing anything with it, i already felt sick to my stomach whether with stress or just general nerves. i know what your thinking, "nerves before a game is normal", yeah i know but not with Quidditch, its not something i have to try at, i just glide through the cutting air, feel the adrenaline, find the snitch, catch that snitch with ease, win the game. oh yeah, and try not to stare at James Bloody Potter and get royally distracted by his stupid pretty face. ugh, love.

"Slytherin against Gryfindoor!" Dorcas Medowes spoke quickly, excitement lacing her words, " cant you imagine, Reggie. Siruis Black as Keeper, Arthur Browne and John Bell as beaters, Geoffrey Fawley and Marlene Mkinnion," she said Marlene's name with utter fondness and a loving glance over at the rivalling house table, "as chasers, as well as James Potter the captain." She finished before rambling on about how good of a chaser Mkinnion was. 

I rolled my eyes at how lovesick she sounded but a hint of a smile tugged at my lips nevertheless and i let out a quiet sigh before standing up from the Slytherin bench, "Well Dorcas, sounds like you're more excited than the actual players," Dorcas smiled kindly with a small laugh at this comment, "but that snitch wont catch itself, and that team needs a Captain. Come on Evan, lets go get ready." Evan Rosier reached over and ruffled Barty's hair before scurrying up to follow me out as I began walking towards the entrance hall.

"Woah, in quite a rush are we Reg?"asked Evan, having successfully caught up to me and regained a casual pace alongside me. 

"Just nervous for the game I guess?" I replied, though I came out as more of a question.

"Come on Reg, whats the real reason. Your never nervous for Quidditch." he commented, looking at me with slight concern.

"I know, I know... I just, feel different."I muttered, loud enough for him to hear.

"You know you can tell me if there's something bothering you, i'm all ears." Evans continued, softly.

"Ugh, fine. Its Ja- Potter." I said in an exasperated tone. when I looked over at him he replied with a confused look so I continued, "listen okay, you'd better not tell anyone what i'm about to tell you okay?.." He nodded so I carried on, "A few nights ago, I went for a late walk to the Black Lake and on the way I spotted him on the pitch and we... um, talked?.. a bit. and then we hung out and went to the kitchens and it was raining and we laughed and it was real and-" as I spoke very quickly, memory's of the night flooded my mind;

He had held my hands in his and the warmth almost choked me to the point I could've fallen off my broom if I wasn't so concentrated on his words and how serene the moment felt, how all real thought echoed into nothingness and stress was beyond reachable distance. He had taken off his glasses because of the rain and stared so deeply into my eyes that I could've drowned in the Chocolatey colour, like mud with hints of Apollo's hazel sun and spots of dark browns and dark vanilla around the edges of the irises. And as the rainfall drenched my shirt and curled my hair into individual ringlets, and his into a beautiful wet mess. I remember dancing with him in the rain, my fingertips wrapping themselves around his warm neck as he rested his open palms on my waist, along with the tranquil feeling that followed when I snuggled into his shoulder and we pulled each other closer absentmindedly. Normally for me, physical contact made me flinch or become uncomfortable but with James it felt normal, in fact it felt abnormal for even our fingertips to not be brushing against each other. And that perfect feeling couldn't seem to leave my brain.

I felt as though I'd rambled for over an hour but by the time we had gotten to the Quidditch Pitch only five minutes had passed and as I glanced over at Evan he started to speak, "I kind of understand what you mean, I get a feeling like that when me and Bart' have our walks in the forbidden forests and he picks the wildflowers, or when we go down to the lake to just talk, or even when we just walk to our next class together and he stands really close and accidentally bumps into me. I don't really know how to explain it either but know that I do understand the feeling."

And as I finished getting ready into my Slytherin Quidditch-Captain robes I grabbed my broom and stood by the entrance of the changing rooms and called the whole team over, ugh time for a stupid speach.

"Listen Guys, this match is one of the most important of the century, not only is it against Gryffindor but it is also the finals and whoever wins this match, wins the Quidditch House Cup. Now, this being said i have words for a few of you. Chasers come on, this game is about speed, so stop being ladylike and knock Fawlene off his broom, Mkinnon could outrun all of you last game and shes only on a Sunseeker broom. And Derrikan, if you miss a single bludger, please do consider yourself replaced by the 1st year Rhamas who performes far better when you are injured, this is your last warning, it may be called a game but you must take it as seriously as you would take your O.W.L scores from McGonaglle. Finally, what do we do?" an echo of the shout "WIN" resounded,  "Good, we Win." 

I took a deepbreath, turned then proceeded to fling open the doors and begin to walk out onto the Pitch, my team following behind. Once walking into the middle I was met by James Potter, Captain of Gryffindor. His maroon robes billowed in the wind as our eyes met. "Hello there Baby Black, don't worry, we'll go easy on your team." He spoke with a smirk. 

"Just make your you didn't forget your glasses Jamie, its gonna be hard for you to see how badly you lost without them." I matched his smirk and glared daggers at him before shaking his hand and commencing the game. All of us mounted our brooms on the second whistle and our eyes locked in an intense stare as I whispered "Scared Potter?" with raised eyebrows. 

"You wish." He replied with a competitive grin and with those words I kicked off at the sound of the third whistle being blown. 

WORD COUNT: 1188

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