The Alpha of Slytherin.

Quidditch.

"Quidditch." Ginny read the chapter title.

James sat up faster, he couldn't wait to here how good of a flyer his youngest son was.

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship.

Llewellyn was torn to whether, to cheer for Harry or Slytherin. Then, he decided to go for some house pride but secretly hoped that Slytherin did well.

Theo dramatically placed a hand on his heart and stared at the boy he considered a brother. "Llewellyn Regulus Edwyn Potter! Smokey! Brother! Slytherin did pretty well that day."

Theo couldn't keep a straight face anymore and started to laugh. A lot. The three other lads starting to laugh as well.

In that moment, the adults realised how similar the Pack of Slytherin and the Marauders are. Well, minus the part where Wormtail betrayed them.

Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Harry didn't know which was worse -- people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress.

Llewellyn sighed. Fucking hell. People really are dense.

Llewellyn now had Hermione as a friend. He didn't know he had managed that one but it was nice. To talk to someone whilst in the library. He'd have gotten through all his homework with her checking over his work and vice versa. They both enjoyed each other's company. Hermione didn't mind Llewellyn's quietness as they studied. She thought it was peaceful.

Llewellyn enjoyed to read Quidditch Through The Ages which Blaise had recommended to him. He had learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

Llewellyn was fascinated by the game and wanted to try out in second year, not like his younger twin who managed to get in first year. He had to talk to Marcus Flint first about tryouts next year.

He did not care. He was the King of Rambling and didn't the Slytherins know it. It had gotten to the point, to the point where Blaise had to hit Llewellyn on the back of the head to stop him from talking.

Blaise smirked. The book did not lie.

Everyone raised an eyebrow at him. He really was nerd but that made him, him.

The Malfoys smirked in amusement. Nothing knew that they didn't already know.

Llewellyn came slightly nervous and started to spur out facts.

"Dragons are giant winged, fire-breathing reptilian beasts. Widely regarded as terrifying yet awe-inspiring, they can be found all over the world and are frequently referred to in Asian and medieval European folklore.