build me up buttercup [s.black]

[32] Quidditch

The pale spring light shone through the gap between the heavy curtains in the common room at six o'clock on a Saturday morning; throwing a thin beam of light onto the book that Aisling was squinting to read by candlelight. She had been there since four, unable to sleep. It had been almost a week since her parents had written to her, and every morning which passed without a letter caused the same ominous sentence to ring in her head.

Your mudblood mother and your filthy muggle had father better watch out, McCawley.

She had spent the last six days bitterly thinking back to the green boils she had covered Lestrange's face in, and wishing to God that she had just restrained herself. If her parents hadn't been a target before, they certainly would be now. Trying to ignore the queasy feeling which seemed to permanently reside in her stomach, she turned her attention back to her book. It was a muggle novel that her dad had sent her a few months ago, but she had only just gotten around to reading it.

'I know this must come as something of a surprise, since all I've ever done is scorn you and degrade you and taunt you, but I have loved you for several hours now, and every second, more.'

Aisling wrinkled her nose. She was enjoying the book, but the hyperbolic declarations of love were getting to be a bit too much for her. And Buttercup was really laying it on thick here. However, her lips curled upwards as she recalled the name of the main character. That made two Buttercups who were feeling the effects of love recently, she supposed.

Sirius had been going out of his way to show her how committed he was to her and only her. Most of the time it was sweet things, like pulling out chairs for her or offering to carry her bag for her between lessons. But other things were less helpful and erring on the side of destructive. For example, he had taken to marching down the corridors in front of her and shouting, 'clear the way people!' Which was not only embarrassing but had also resulted in quite a few altercations between Sirius and several Slytherins which would probably have turned nasty had there not conveniently been a member of staff patrolling the corridors every time.

Aisling sighed and closed her book, lying back in her chair and massaging her temples. She needed to sleep, but every time she did she dreamt of her parents and Lestrange's horrible, threatening words, and the dark mark hanging over her cottage in Ireland. His mark.

"What's up, Buttercup?" She heard a familiar voice accompany the pattering of feet coming down the stairs from the boy's dormitories.

"Hey, what are you doing up so early?" She swivelled around to see Sirius standing in the common room, with a very sleepy looking James in tow.

"Off to the kitchens to prepare for an early morning treat." Sirius answered, an all too familiar glint in his eye.

"You ready for the match today McCawley?" James asked, yawning.

The truth was that she wasn't, she was severely sleep deprived and constantly worrying about what might be going on in her home town. But there was no way she would be saying that to her team captain.

"Born ready." She said, flashing him a grin.

"Right, we better go." Sirius said, glancing fretfully at a piece of old parchment in his hand, which Aisling recognised at the map he had shown her in fifth year. "See you later, Buttercup."

Aisling tried to ignore the clinking of bottles which rang through the common room as they clambered out of the portrait hole, and the uneasy feeling that something not very pleasant was going to happen at breakfast that morning.

And sure enough, while she concentrated very hard on not falling asleep into her bowl of cereal, The Great Hall was filled with a huge BANG and the smell of singed material. Everyone's heads snapped around towards the source of the noise, the Slytherin breakfast table.