𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥? 〚𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚘𝚢 〛

Chapitre 8

I've never had a good sense of direction, which is splendid when you are living in a castle that is large enough to house an entire country. However, I discovered I had a great talent in tracking people.

"Good evening," I said as we both walked unto the quidditch pitch. 

I nearly added a sarcastic remark, but held myself back. He didn't need to know I had followed him since the great hall.

The boy spun around, startled.

"You're there," he grumbled, disappointed.

I gestured towards the brooms. "Let's begin, shall we?"

He threw the brooms on the ground and placed himself beside one of them.

"Up," he shouted. The broom shot in his hand.

"So you can speak clearly," I noticed.

He did not respond, instead mounting the broom and kicking off the ground.

"There, it's as easy as that. Hurry up and show me you can't do it."

Of course he wasn't expecting me to succeed. No one ever did. 

That's precisely what kept me going. 

I fixed my attention on the broom so intensely it could have burst into flames. Which of course, it didn't (sadly). But the rage in my voice was enough to make Urquhart flinch.

"Up," I growled loudly.

The broom did not hesitate, shooting into my hands and in a matter of seconds, I was flying beside the dark haired boy.

"Care for a race?" I smirked as he struggled to find words, his mouth agape.

Suddenly feeling an unexplainable sense of freedom, a small laugh escaped me as I zoomed across the field, flying upwards before peaking. As I stopped, a movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Flicking both of my hands upwards, I had the pleasure to catch a large ball just as it was going to smack me in the forehead. 

I raised an eyebrow at Urquhart, politely asking him if he intended to kill me. Surprisingly, his expression told me otherwise.

"That was bloody amazing!" he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. "That's it, you're the chaser I'm missing."

I smiled hesitantly.

"Muggle or not, the Slytherin team would benefit from someone like you," he grinned, lowering himself onto the ground.

I followed, landing as gracefully as I could, which was no small feat. The captain of the quidditch team held out his hand.

"Charles," he said.

Without a scowl on his face, the boy could actually look charming. Large shoulders and a thick frame, with facial features that held some sort of sharp roughness. I stared at his calloused hand, wondering exactly what kind of trick he was preparing. Then again, I needed allies.

"Rose," I shook his hand. "Pleasure."

"You know, you're tough for a muggle," he nodded to himself, as if realizing he would get into a lot of trouble for this. "I like you, Collins."

"Good, it'll save my time and yours."

He laughed goodheartedly and slung his arm over my shoulder. I pursed my lips at the sudden closeness but did not push him away as he led me back to the castle.

"A brilliant chaser," I heard him whisper.

I smiled slightly; that boy was a quidditch freak.