Golden Girl; 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓦𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓵𝓮𝔂

Fourth Year: The Rogue Bludger

November

"So, you're telling me Filch's cat wasn't one of your ideas?" Bambi asked skeptically in a low voice as she walked down the corridors toward the locker room with Fred and George.

"Do you really think we'd ever mess with a poor innocent creature?" George asked, voice dripping in fake offense.

"Yes actually," Bambi laughed dryly, searching their faces for any hint of truth.

"No, of course not! But whoever did do it must have a perfect immobulus charm down." Fred said, a hint of awe in his voice.

Bambi pursed her lips, thinking. Whatever got to Mrs. Norris was lurking somewhere in the schools, and something in her gut told her that it probably wasn't just a student.

Bambi pulled her Gryffindor Quidditch robes over her sweatshirt and leggings, layering up was necessary with the weather they'd been having. Her hair had long returned to its natural frizzy state, and she had not allowed a single flick of mascara near her eyes since her date with Oliver.

She hadn't been avoiding him, per se, but she was also finding it harder and harder to find good excuses on why she would be busy the next time he asked her out. Not that he seemed to notice though, his determination to pursue her was only topped by his determination to beat Slytherin in today's game.

"Slytherin has better brooms than us," Oliver began his usual pre-match pep talk. "No point in denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers–"

"Too true," George muttered, "I haven't been properly dry since August,"

"And we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team!"

Chest heaving with emotion, Wood turned to Harry.

"It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy, or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to."

"So, no pressure, Harry," said Fred, winking at him.

Bambi clapped Harry on the back, "You got this."

As they walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard loud enough also.

Madam Hooch asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other loathsome intense stares and gripping rather harder than was needed.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three... two...one..."

Bambi kicked off the ground, flying to her position as the Quaffle was tossed up in the air, and catching the ball, tucking it under her arm.

"On your left, Bambi!" Angelina called a hand up in the air.

Bambi threw the Quaffle but was nearly knocked off her broom by Adrian Pucey, who shot like a bullet between the two girls, kicking Bambi hard in the shin as he stole the Quaffle mid-throw.

Bambi shot him a nasty look, pushing her pain to the back of her mind. She looked up- Harry was flying higher than the rest of them, and a Bludger was soaring right to his head.

Bambi watched as George streaked past him just in time and gave the Bludger a powerful whack, toward Pucey, only for it to change direction midair and shoot straight for Harry again.

Pucey laughed, and now at the goals, shot, scoring for Slytherin.

Harry dropped low on his broom to avoid being hit again, George this time redirecting the Bludger at Malfoy, but like before, it came hurdling back to Harry.