Collision - Fred Weasley

Part nineteen

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The weather was surprisingly sunny as the team started competing, and Lyra felt sharper than ever. The adrenaline from the game ran through her, pushing aside the aches from her wounds.

Slytherin was dominating the field, their teamwork precise and well-rehearsed. Marcus Flint led with brutal efficiency, shouting commands as they weaved in and out of the Gryffindor defenses.

Adrian Pucey and Theodore Nott were equally relentless, pushing the Quaffle through Gryffindor's lines, racking up points with almost every play. 

Lyra, playing Chaser, alongside Adrian and Theodore, who were catching passes, dodging Gryffindor's attempts at knocking them off their broom, and the trio was flying with unparalleled precision.

Fred and George, however, weren't going to make it easy for her. Especially not Fred.

From the moment the game started, the Weasley twins had their target set on her, launching Bludgers her way every chance they got. 

Lyra's heart raced as she dodged yet another one, avoiding it as it drove past her ear. She caught George grinning from across the field and gave him a sarcastic smile before diving back into the action.

Fred on the other hand was above them, circling above and scanning the field for his next move. He shortly spotted Lyra cutting through the Gryffindor defense and took his shot, sending a Bludger her way with a powerful swing of his bat. 

But Lyra, quickly spun out of its path at the last second, her braid whipping in the wind as she shot Fred a cocky grin.

"That all you've got, Weasley?" she shouted across the pitch, her voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd.

Fred glared, but there was a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "No, not if you're able to handle it."

But despite his confidence, Lyra was untouchable. She flew through the air sharply as she dodged Bludger after Bludger, sometimes with nothing but inches to spare. 

She even managed to steal the Quaffle from a stunned Angelina at one point, shooting the Gryffindor an air kiss, which earned her an angry shout from the Gryffindor Chaser.

"Stay focused, Johnson!" Lyra taunted with a wink, flying past her with the Quaffle tucked securely under her arm.

Angelina was too late to stop Lyra from passing the Quaffle to Adrian Pucey, who scored yet another goal for Slytherin.

The Slytherin stands erupted in cheers, their voices drowning out the groans from the Gryffindor side. Slytherin now had 140 points! 

Even though Gryffindor was playing well, they were clearly dominated. The rivalry between Lyra and Angelina was feeding into the tension.

Fred swooped down again, this time flying dangerously close to the Slytherin girl. "You think you're so great, don't you, Arakan?"

Lyra shot him a sideways glance, her expression cool and collected. "I don't think, Weasley. I know."

He scowled, but she could tell he was frustrated. The more he tried to get under her skin, the more she seemed to outplay him. 

She was  completely locked into the game, and nothing could break her focus. Not even Fred.

As the game continued, Slytherin managed to score four more goals, which is one more goal than Gryffindor had scored the entire match. 

Gryffindor was desperately trying to close the gap, but Slytherin was holding strong. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Lyra saw Harry Potter dive toward the ground.

He had spotted the Golden Snitch.

The Gryffindor Seeker soared through the air with his arm outstretched. The crowd gasped, all eyes fixed on Harry's rapid descent. 

For a moment, it seemed like the entire match had frozen in time.

Lyra knew that if Harry caught the Snitch, it would mean an instant 150 points for Gryffindor—but that wouldn't be enough. Not today.

Slytherin already had 180 points on the board, which was more than the snitch's worth. Gryffindor had 40 points, but if Harry managed to catch the snitch, the team would be tied. 

She focused back on her own play, dodging yet another bludger from a certain Weasley. She quickly swooped down toward the goalposts. 

The quaffle was back secure in her hands, and she flew past two Gryffindor Chasers with ease, racing toward the goal. Adrian and Theodore were close behind her.

With a well-timed feint, she passed the quaffle to Adrian, who made the shot. The quaffle soared through the hoop, scoring yet another 10 points for Slytherin.

The crowd roared in approval, but at the same time, Harry reached out and grabbed the Snitch, his hand closing around it just as he crashed into the muddy ground. The whistle blew, signaling the end of the match.

For a split second, there was silence.

Then the scoreboard flashed Gryffindor: 180 points, Slytherin: 190 points.

Slytherin had won.

The Slytherin stands erupted in deafening cheers, their voices drowning out everything else.

Lyra let out a breath, a wide grin breaking across her face. The game was theirs.

Fred hovered nearby, looked utterly frustrated. He glared down at Lyra, wiping sweat from his face. "How did you do it?" he muttered, shaking his head.

Lyra just smirked, her eyes gleaming with victory. "Do what, you reckon I'm cheating?"

Fred opened his mouth to respond, but George swooped in beside him, patting his twin on the back. "Let it go, Fred. We'll get them next time."

But Lyra could tell from the way Fred's jaw clenched that he wasn't about to forget this anytime soon. Still, as she flew back to her team, high-fiving Adrian and Marcus, alongside Theodore and the other players. 

Today had been a turning point, not just in the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but in her own personal feud with Fred.

For now, she was on top, where she belonged.

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