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“Oh my god! What is that?” I whisper-shout, shoving my way through the crowd of students. “Ahh!” I jump at the sight of three distinct figures in front of a bloodstained wall and a hanging cat.


“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the heir…..beware.” Blaise whispers. “The Chamber of Secrets, I’ve read about it.” Blaise’s eyes cloud over like he’s lost in the past or relieving a memory. 


“Blaise? Blaise! What is it?!” Theo asks. Before Blaise can answer though, Draco shoves by.


“Ha! You’ll be next Mudbloods!” He shouts, stepping out. I pull him back by the strands of  his overly gelled hair. “Ow!” he whisper-shouts. 


“What is the meaning of this!” Filch says, pushing his way through the crowd. “YOU! YOU KILLED M-MY CAT!!!” He points his finger at Harry. 


“N-no I-I swear.” Harry mumbles. 


“What’s going on here?” Dumbledore says, with McG and Snape trailing behind him. “Everyone back to your common rooms! Go!” Dumbledore says, when he notices the sight. “You three,” He nods (calmly!?) at Hermione, Harry, and Ron. “In here.” he points to Lockhart's office. 


“I want to see punishment for this! PUNISHMENT!” Filch growls. 


“Argus, calm yourself.” Dumbledore says, as he ushers Filch into Lockhart's office as well. 


“Back to you common rooms! NOW!” McG shoo’s as she trails behind Dumbledore and Filch, Snape follows. 


“What does it mean ‘Enemies of the heir beware’?!” I ask Blaise as we walk back to the Slytherin common room. But Blaise just furrows his brows and shakes his head. 


“It means, by the end of the school year, all the Mudbloods will be dead.” Draco smirks. 


“And you’re happy about that?! You can live with the thought that children are dying, just because they were born from muggles and you didn’t do anything about it?” Draco freezes mid-step, and turns to me.


“I don’t care about Mudbloods.” 


“So they deserve to die?” I challenge him. He thinks for a couple seconds and then gulps.


“Yes.” Draco deadpans.


“Then would you kill one yourself?” I stare at him right in the eyes.


“Maybe.” He deadpanned again, and then continues forward. 


“Liar.” I whisper, catching up to him. Without so much as a second glance at him I charge forward to the common room.




“Nervous?” Theo asks, sitting next to me at breakfast.


“Nope.” I say, but the slight quiver in my voice must have given me away. Theo points to my plate of fruit. 


“You're not eating.” He says it like it proves something. 


“So?” I snap, unnecessarily. Theo is unperturbed though.


“So, you have cherries and apples and strawberries and raspberries and watermelon, all your favorite fruits on your plate, but you're not eating anything which proves you’re VERY nervous.” Theo says matter-of-factly.


“I’m not nervous! We have this in the bag! THIS year is OUR year to win! Bloody Gryffindors only won ONCE in like what? SEVEN YEARS! We are going. To chomp. Their. Heads. OFF!” I shout and get a cheer from the Slytherins. “Oh god, I’m soooooo nervous!” I whine and drop my head onto Theo’s shoulder. 


“There, there,” Theo coos patting my head. “Don’t worry, the worst that could happen is that we lose the cup, or that we lose the cup because of you, or that you break or sprain something, or that you get a concussion, or that you fall from an incredible hight and no one can save you in time and you die.” My head shoots up from Theo’s shoulder and I glare at him. “But don’t worry!” He says, and I expect him to end with something like ‘That won’t happen’ instead he says, “You can always come back as a ghost!” I shove him and he laughs and shoves me back. 


“Oi! Watch it!!!” Draco Meanie-This-Morning Malfoy growls from the other side of me. 


“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed!” I raise my eyebrow. 


“Shut up.” Draco says, stabbing his eggs benidict (No sauce, scrambled eggs, Italian instead of Canadian ham and sourdough, not english muffins, all separated into different corners on a plain, round, white plate. *Rolls eyes*). 


“He’s just angry because his father’s coming to watch the quidditch game.”  Blaise says, dunking his blueberry muffin into a cup of the blackest coffee I have ever seen. 


“Your father’s coming?!!!!” I laugh. “Lucky you!” I say, sarcastically. 


“I’m not mad because my father’s coming! I can’t wait for him to come see me beat Pottah!” Meanie-This-Morning Malfoy counters.


“Liar.” Blaise smirks. 


“What was that Blaise?!” Draco gives his demon stare as he looks up at Blaise. Blaise clears his throat.


“Nothing.” He goes back to sipping his way-too-dark coffee.


“How do you drink that?!” I ask, trying to kill the tension.


“What? Drink coffee? Oh you just use this part of your body called a hand and grab the handle of this coffee mug right here. Then, you bring the mug up to your lips, another part of your body, sorry should I explain what a body is too? No? Okay, well you bring it up to your lips and you open your mouth and sip the coffee, but TRY not to make slurping sounds. THAT is DE-scustin-GUH! Following?” Blaise smirks when I roll my eyes.


“Perfectly, thank you.” I say, sticking my tongue out at him. “What I MEANT was, how do you drink so much black coffee and not bounce around the walls like crazy. Hello, caffeine!” 


He shrugs, “Black like my soul.” I burst out laughing. Like, REALLY laughing. Everyone at the Slytherin and even Ravenclaw table stares at me. 


“Heh heh hmm.” I breathe as my laughing fit dies out. Blaise looks at me with a challenging eyebrow raised. “Sorry it’s just, ‘Black like my soul’! Blaise.”


“Ugh! Will you all stop being so happy?! And……….laughy?!” Draco Meanie-This-Morning Malfoy grumbles. I roll my eyes. “We have a game to win!”


“Exactly! I’m loosening us up! If we’re all ‘mr. serious’ all the time how are we gonna win? There’s such a thing as ‘over-seriousness’!” I say matter-of-factly. 


“That’s where you're wrong!” A voice says, as two arms pull me up and away from my red fruit. Two other arms pull Draco out of his seat, too. 


“Ack! Flint! What the heck!” I say, as the quidditch captain drags me away. 


“Team strategizing at the end of the table!” He says, pushing me down onto a chair, near where the rest of the team is sitting.  Graham Montegue, who I recently learned is Flint’s Right Hand Man, pushes Draco down across from me. “Listen up team! We do whatever it takes to win! Yeah? Blood, sweat, NO TEARS! Got that Girlie?!” My jaw drops.


“What? You think I’m gonna cry!? Please! If I remember correctly, I saw Bletchly balling his eyes out in the locker room after everyone left because you yelled at him.” The whole team turns to face Bletchly for confirmation. Bletchly growls at me.


“You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone!” He whisper-shouts, but that’s all the confirmation the team needs. 


“Mate, seriously?!” Montegue laughs.


“Aww, little Bletchley baby!” other boys tease. 


“FOCUS!” Flint shouts. “We have a GAME to win!!”  Everyone snaps their attention back to our captain. “Right! Rule number one; focus, focus, focus! As long as you do that you’ll be good! What’s rule two?! Graham?” 


“Cheat if necessary.” Monegue nods. “Pucey?!” 


“When we win, make them feel it.” Adrian says.


“Right! Focus, cheat, brag! Now, for the newbies.” Flint turns to Draco and I. “We have traditions here. We do them before EVERY game.”


“If you don’t do them, you don’t get to play.” Montegue finishes.


“First tradition, The Toast Toast. So, everybody take a slice of toast!” I pick up a slice of toast from the platter on the table. “Good! Pucey, do the honors!” Flint orders.


“Toast hands in the middle!!!!!” Adrian hollers, sincerely. 


“One! TWO! THREE! SLYTHERIN!!!!!” everybody shouts. Then, they start squishing the toast in their hands into crumbs. I look at Draco and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh. I sigh, and squeeze my toast to death. 


“Wow, that felt good!” I say, wiping my hands on a napkin. 


“Why do you think we do it?” Adrian says.


“Okay boys! And…..girl.” Flint’s still not super happy about me being on the team. “See that?!” he points to the pile of crumbs on the table. “THAT is what we're gonna do to Gryffindor!!”


“YEAH!” we all cheer. 


“What is going on here?!” Says a monotone voice from behind me. Snape. “Oh. The…..what do you call it? Toast Toast? Hmm. As disgusting and odd as I find your superstitions...I aslas, wish you good luck. We must win. Clean this up.” with that, he walks back towards the teachers table. I reach my hands out to scoop some crumbs into my napkin. 


“Don’t bother.” Adrian says, blocking my hand from the pile. 


“He says that every year. We never do.” Flint shrugs. “Now come on! Lets go mess with the Gryffindors, they’re in the corridor and out of the professors view.” I shrug and stand up with the rest of the team. Messing with your competitors before a game is NOT cheating and it’s perfectly fair. You don’t let them get in your head and they try not to let you get in theirs. It’s a brilliant tactic. We make our way out of the Great Hall and spot the Gryffindor team. “Okay.” Flint whispers. “Here’s the line-up Me, Graham to my right, Adrian left, behind us is everyone else, except Draco, who is next to Adrian and RedFox who is behind everyone. I scoff.


“You can’t just hide me in the back like some useless-” I start.


“We’re keeping you in the back because the Gryffindors don’t know you’re on the team and they’re no doubt going to ask who our other chaser is and THEN you’ll come up front.” Adrian explains.


“Ooooooh. My bad.” I say.


“Everyone knows what to say in the end?” Flint asks. Draco and I shake our heads. “Oh right. Another tradition, the last thing ANYONE on the team says to ANY member of the opposing team before the game starts is, ‘We make our own luck.’ because each team ALWAYS wishes the other good luck. Okay, let’s go!” Flint says. 


I can’t see anything as we approach the Gryffindor team (well I’m assuming we’re approaching the Gryffindor team), due to being hidden behind these giants. 


“Flint.” I hear Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor quidditch captain say. 


“Wood.” Flint snarls back. 


“We just came to wish you good luck.” Montague growls. 


“You’ll definitely need it.” Draco cues in. 


“Keep telling yourself that.” Angelina Johnson retorts. 


“Whatever, Girlie.” Flint smirks.  


“Hey where’s your chaser?” Wood asks. Here we go. 


“She’s here.” Flint says.


“She??” almost the whole Gryffindor team exclaims. 


“She.” I say, stepping out. Harry’s jaw drops.


“Fox?” Fred, George, and Harry ask. 


I tilt my head and wave. “That’s me.” 


Wood looks SUPER nervous. “What happened to the other guy?” 


“Oh you mean the guy that you’ve seen fly before and know all of his techniques? Yeah, we got rid of him.” Adrian smirks. “But don’t worry! She’s just as good. Actually, MUCH better. Almost as good as me.” Wood is trying and failing to hide his growl. 


“Well we’ll see you on the pitch.” Wood says. “Good luck.” 


“We make our own luck!!” we shout as we walk towards the locker rooms. 




“Okay. GO WIN!” Flint yells as we soar into the sky. Adrian catches the quaffle first and zooms down the pitch chucking the ball through the middle hoop and earning an easy 10 points for us. Katie Bell is now in possession of the quaffle. I fly on her left side and Adrian takes her right. Flint, flies underneath her, completing our formation. Adrian nods at me and we both approach Bell. She tries to speed ahead of us but her broom just isn’t fast enough. She thinks she’s being smart by flying down, but she rams right into Flint who of course is MUCH bigger than her so as she rubs her head with one hand, Flint snatches the quaffle and speeds down the pitch scoring another goal. Adrian and I fist bump (another tradition: ‘You have to fist bump after every victory’) and then I fly towards Flint, who is in possession of the quaffle again, and surrounded by Gryffindor chasers. I make sure Flint sees me fly under him and puts my hands out. Flint drops the quaffle right into my hands and I shoot towards the hoops. I am distracted by a weird sight, one of the bludgers is literally CHASING Harry wherever he goes. 


“FOCUS!” Flint hollers form somewhere behind me and I realize that the Gryffindors have caught up with me. I’m pretty close to the hoops so as they close in I loop backwards, then up, then I diagonally dive towards the right hoop but at the last minute thrust the quaffle into the left one. Just like I did at tryouts. Wood misses the quaffle, 10 more points go to Slytherin. 


“How the bloody hell does she do that so smoothly?!” I hear Alicia Spinnet, of Gryffindor, yell. 


“That was MUCH to close!!!! YOU NEED TO FOCUS!!” Flint scolds, as he and Adrian come up to me. “Nice work with the Underdog though.” He says, referencing to when I grabbed the quaffle form under him. Flint likes to name EVERYTHING. “Come on!” He fistbumps me and Adrian and then speeds off. 


“What were you looking at anyway?” Adrian asks, as we fly towards Flint.


“That bludger is in love with Harry.” I point to where Fred and George are trying to get rid of the rogue bludger that keeps swarming around Harry. 


Adrian laughs. “Good for us.” 


The game goes really well from there. Adrian scores another two points and I score one, tallying up to 60-0 us!!!! Somewhere in the middle of it, Wood calls a time out and I assume that he was telling Fred and George to stop following Harry around, because after that, Harry was alone with the besotted bludger. The snitch was RIGHT next to Draco’s ear but he DIDN’T SEE IT! Before Harry could grab it though, it flew away. The next thing we know, Harry and Draco are zooming around below the stands and out of our sight! Then, they come up and they’re neck and neck. Harry reaches his arm out to grab the snitch and the bludger hits him smack dab in the middle of his arm! He tumbles forward but then, surprise, surprise! HOLDS UP THE BLOODY SNITCH! 150-60 THEM!!! UGH! Lockhart goes to do something to Harry’s arm and it looks like the bone is GONE! In any other circumstance I would go see if he’s okay, but…...WE LOST!!! UGH, UGH, UGH! 


“That was SO unfair! He had A ROGUE BLUDGER after him and we STILL lost!” I complain, walking into the locker room. “Ugh! Bloody, bloody, BLOODY, Gryffindors!!!! And if YOU,” I jab a finger at Draco. “Had just seen the STUPID SNITCH! It was RIGHT by your ear!” 


“It’s not MY fault!” Draco shouts. 


“It kind of IS!” I yell back.


“Hey! No fighting! Yeah we lost. Nobody likes losing! There’s still a chance to win the quidditch cup if Hufflepuff beats Gryffindor-” Adrian tries.


“No! There! Isn’t! Diggory’s good, but he’s the ONLY good one! Their keeper is NOTHING to Wood, their chasers are garbage compared to the girls on Gryffindor, NOBODY’S beaters are better than the twins, not even ours! UGH!” I shove my locker closed.


“It’s STILL not my FAULT!” Draco thrusts his arms up in frustration.


“YES IT IS!!!” I shout.


“HEY! It’s nobody’s fault but those bloody Gryffindors!” Flint yells. “I don’t want to hear you blaming another teammate again.” he says, coming up to me. “We’re a team, we work together. We can all think whatever we want about each other but we can’t say it.” He wags a finger at me and then walks away. I wonder if he’s talking about me. He clearly doesn’t want me on the team, but ever since I officially became part of the team, he says nothing to my face anymore. Nobody does. It’s really nice how Slytherins always stick together. Especially because every other house is always against us. “Now get out! We need to change!” Flint calls. I sigh.


“I’m going! I’m going!” I managed to mumble a “Sorry.” to Draco as I trudge out of the Locker Room.


Hey! I'm so sorry it's been so long!!! From now on though, my updates are going to be farther apart (no longer than a month though).


Thanks for reading and reviewing!!

Baby nargle





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