HE WAS THE sun, she was the moon. He burned people, she gave light in the darkness. He was candescent, she was hidden. Beautifully tragic, two souls combined in a flurry of love, destruction, ashes, and magic.
marked mature because it gets dark late...
┌───────────────────┐ chapter six: youngest seekers, a troll and new friendships word count: 4.8k └───────────────────┘
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note: i wrote this chapter purely from memory bc i was too lazy to watch the movie... ignore the parts where i went wrong, would you?
. . .
"OLIVER WOOD. MARCUS FLINT."
Professor Quirrell didn't seem all that joyous about two of students leaving class, but no one spoke against Professor McGonagall.
Especially not Stuttering Quirrell.
"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Malfoy, this is Marcus Flint." McGonagall held excitement in her voice as she looked at the kids and then at the team captains. "I have found you both Seekers! Though, Flint, it is not my job to meddle in Slytherin affairs, I have heard you were looking for a Seeker and Malfoy seems to be competent for the role."
The kids looked at one another, one masking the look of confusion, the other, of pure joy.
. . .
A SLAP ON HER BACK MADE HER AWARE THAT THE WHOLE SCHOOL KNEW ABOUT HER ORDEAL.
"Wood's just told us!" Fred (she assumed) grinned down at her, his twin slinging an arm around her shoulder. Ron, who was beside her, mumbled, "Fred and George are on the team too, — Beaters."
"Our job is to make sure you don't get bloodied up too bad." George (again, she assumed) spoke with nonchalance, "Can't make any promises, of course! Rough game, Quidditch."
And that made her want to withdraw from the team.
"Brutal." Fred's over-exaggerated gestures assured her that they were only messing with her. "But no one's died in years. Some will vanish occasionally. . ."
And with that, Fred and George took their leave, allowing Azalea and Ron creative liberty to end that sentence.
"Is it really as bad as they say?" Azalea looked at Ron, hazel eyes wide. Ron shook his head, "Only the big, professional tournaments. Nothing happens in the school. The bloodiest injury you can get is a broken limb."
Maybe Ron noticed her hesitation, because he continued, "Oh, go on, Azzie! Quidditch is great — best game there is! And you'll be great, too."
They continued walking, Azalea voicing her doubts, aware of Hermione's presence, "But I've never played Quidditch! What if I make a fool of myself?"
They neared the staircase, walking up the rickety stairs, Hermione now pitching in, "You won't make a fool of yourself. It's in your blood."
As if on cue, the trio stopped near the big trophy case they'd often seen Mr. Filch or the children in detention clean. Lo and behold, there were big golden plaques with names imprinted on them in big, clear fonts, and one stood out the most (at least to Azzie) : James Potter, Seeker.
