PRANKSTER [1] ↝ C. DIGGORY

eighteen

"Alright Gryffindors, let's go!" Oliver shouted from where he hovered in front of the goalposts at the other end of the field as Clary hurried to try and catch up to Jeremy Stretton in the hopes of intercepting the Quaffle from him before he could reach the end of the Pitch.

Much to Vasantha's dismay, Stretton no longer seemed to harbor any romantic feelings towards Clary, and wasn't going to let her get her hands on the Quaffle so easily. The boy bobbed and weaved around the Pitch, trying to get Clary off his heels.

"Stay on him, Clary!" she could hear Vasantha yelling, and she willed her Cleansweep to go faster before Roger Davies could get close enough for Stretton to pass the Quaffle off.

As Stretton threw the Quaffle to Davies, he slowed down, allowing Clary the chance to pass from below him and reach up, securing the Quaffle under her arm as she darted back to where Grant Page was waiting in the Ravenclaw goalpost, ready to anticipate her every move.

"And a great interception from Clarissa Weasley!" Lee bellowed into the microphone. "She's going for the goal!"

"Go Clary!" she could hear from all around her as she kept darting for the goal, Stretton and Davies both on her tail as Randolph Burrow also joined the pursuit of the young redhead.

Clary neared the goal, aiming for the left hoop but throwing for the right at the last second, Page already swerving to block the left as she changed directions, the Quaffle passing through cleanly as the stands erupted with cheers.

As Clary stopped her broom suddenly, it was too fast for the three Ravenclaw boys behind her as they came crashing into her. The momentum threw her off her broom and into the goalpost, where her head slammed against one of the rings with a dull thud. As she fell, the screams of those in the stands accompanied the black as she lost consciousness before hitting the ground. 

"She'll be okay, right?" a nervous voice asked as Clary began to regain consciousness. 

"She'll be fine, Newt." a voice she instantly recognized to be Vasantha's assured the first one. 

"Yeah, Clary's got a hard head." George said as she opened her eyes, blinking a few times until she gradually adjusted to the light.

Clary looked around to see she was in the Hospital Wing, surrounded on all sides by her brothers, Ginny, the Scamander twins and finally, Cedric. All conversation ceased as her eyes landed on Cedric's, who offered her a small smile.

"Hey there, champ." the boy said, shaking his head with a grin. "Classic Clarissa Weasley, always having to make a statement."

"Merlin's beard, I feel like I've been hit by the Knight Bus." she said, reaching up to massage her temples and noticing a bandage on her wrist. "What happened?"

"The Ravenclaw boys knocked you off your broom." Vasantha explained. "I told you Stretton was still bothered that nothing worked out between you two."

"Vas," Newt said, shaking his head.

"Anyways," she continued on. "when they knocked you off your broom, you went flying forward, and your head hit the goalpost. Merlin, that was an unpleasant sound it made. You hit the ground, so they stopped the game to get you here. Madame Pomfrey healed you, but you landed on your wrist so she bandaged it to keep you from doing too much with it for the next few days. She healed your concussion, too, but you'll have a wicked headache for a little while."

"You can say that again." Clary sighed, rubbing her temples again.

"You'll have a wicked headache for a little while." Vasantha said with a wicked grin, and George elbowed her in the ribs.

"What about the match?" she questioned. "What happened when the game went back into play?"

"We're in the finals." Fred said with a proud grin. "Game continued on for a bit after they took you away. Harry caught the Snitch, so it's us against Slytherin. Ready to stomp on some bloody snakes in a few weeks?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." she said with a smile.

"Ah, Miss Weasley." Madame Pomfrey said, walking over to where the group was gathered. "If you're feeling up to it, you can go. Sit the rest of the evening out and head back to your common room to get some rest. No running around, young lady."

Fred and George helped Clary to her feet, making sure she was steady before they helped her walk back to Gryffindor Tower. They bid goodbye to the Hufflepuff boys and then did the same to the rest of the group as Clary and Vasantha reached their dorm, where Clary was already ready to go back to sleep despite it only being shortly after eight in the evening.

"So," Clary said as she sank into her bed, looking over at where Vasantha was sitting up in her own. "Oliver must be pretty happy about us winning the match."

"I guess so." Vasantha said with a sigh, crossing her legs over one another.

"Are you ever going to tell me?" Clary asked her with a sympathetic smile.

The room fell silent for a moment as Clary watched the girl, waiting for the moment when Vasantha finally nodded. The girl stared at the floor fiddling around with her hands nervously as she searched for the words to say.

"It was a few weeks before we left for the holidays." Vasantha explained slowly, her eyes never once leaving the ground. "He was helping me with a flying move for Quidditch in exchange of me helping him with Transfiguration. Since we were talking more outside of practice, that led to us having lunch together a few times, which is when you guys saw us. I really liked him, more than just the friends we had become. Then, over Christmas, we actually started seeing each other more and more. He's a seventh year, so he can Apparate. Usually we'd travel to the coast, just sit and watch the waves while bundled up under a blanket. He's so sweet, Clary, he really is." 

Vasantha stopped suddenly, her eyes filling with tears that threatened to spill, and she balled up her sweater sleeves over her hands before she continued. 

"But all good things must come to an end, right? We came back here, and I thought things would be the way they used to. I thought he would actually consider me his girlfriend and we'd be able to do the things we did while we were gone. But he pushed me away. Said he didn't have space for anything in his mind right now except Quidditch. So now here we are, and I'm doing everything in my power to play the sport that he chose over me."

"Vas..." Clary trailed off, patting the space next to her bed, and her best friend climbed next to her so Clary could pull her into a hug. "You know Oliver even better than I do. The bloke's got a one-track mind. He doesn't know how to focus on more than one thing at once. And if he lets you go because of that, then that's his loss. Because what you are is absolutely incredible."

"Do you mean that?" Vasantha asked, a tear finally spilling before she could quickly wipe it away.

"Of course I do."