Light Pre-Match Mind Games

You were woken by the sound of your alarm at six in the morning. You blindly grabbed your vibrating wand and slipped out of bed then grumbled the counterspell, which - ironically - required you to be standing as part of the wand movement. Otherwise, it would keep going off every six minutes.

The highly anticipated Quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw would start in five hours. But rather than balk at all the pressure you heaped upon yourself to make a miraculous Quidditch debut, you turned your attention to the reason you set your alarm so early: you needed to restock your supply of Topical Bruiser Remover. Spending a couple hours brewing a potion you had memorised would be a productive way to distract you from the biggest opportunity of your life.

You still didn’t have your Slytherin uniform, so you dressed in your Irish National Team gear that was still out from last night. Once your Keeper gloves were tucked into your belt, you packed your Potions kit in your school bag, grabbed your cauldron, and your spare cauldron before leaving the Slytherin common room and making your way through the dungeons to the Student Potions Labs.

Armed with two cauldrons, you were able to brew two potions simultaneously with the start times staggered by six minutes for safety. The first was your custom fast-acting Lightning Bruise Remover, and the other was the standard recipe. Through regular practice and pre-preparing many of your ingredients (or in this case, preparing two batches at once), you managed to trim the brewing process down from the original fifty-five minutes it took you in your first class to forty-two. But that was as far as you could go, any further reductions would have a negative impact on the essential stewing stages.

At five to seven, you had finished your first pair of potions and were rinsing your cauldrons in preparation for a second batch when Professor Snape rapped on the door and stuck his head in your Potions Lab.

“Morning, professor,” you greeted him, “I shared my bruise potions with my teammates last night and ended up exhausting my supply. I got up early so I could restock ahead of today’s match. Also… brewing a potion I have memorised calms my nerves.”

“A point to Slytherin for being prepared and making productive use of your time.”

And with that, he was gone.

“Thank you, sir!” you called after him. That brought you to one hundred seven.

The Potion professor’s echoing voice repeated the word ‘productive’ in your mind as you finished cleaning your cauldrons and started your second set of Topical Bruise Remover. Not for the first time, the thought of being more productive with your brewing struck you. That’s why you bought the spare cauldron. You looked into potentially increasing the volume of this particular potion, due to how much of it you went through. The standard recipe was devised to only produce one potion in a size two pewter cauldron. And while one potion could cure multiple bruises, once that potion finished coagulating, there was only ever enough purple paste to fill a single vial.

You finished cleaning your cauldrons and brought them back to the workstation to begin your second batch. You could potentially acquire a larger cauldron to produce a larger quantity. A size three cauldron was twice the size of a size two and would - in theory - produce twice as much potion and yield two vials of paste. Likewise, a size four cauldron was twice the size of a size three and would create enough Topical Bruise Remover to fill four vials.

However, adapting recipes to yield larger quantities was trickier than simply doubling or quadrupling the amount of each ingredient. You also needed to adjust the time for each stage, recalculate the number of stirs, and ensure that the ingredients were still at the desired level of potency and wouldn’t become diluted by using a larger quantity. It was a complicated process that you occasionally looked into when you researched potions, but was something that might warrant dedicating more attention to if you wanted to keep your spot on the starting lineup.

Another knock came at seven-thirty when you were mostly done and waiting for your potions to finish coagulating.

“Morning, Millie,” you greeted Millicent as she entered wearing an emerald green Slytherin jumper over her usual uniform. “Nice kit.”

“Thanks,” she replied. She fully entered the room, turned around, and brushed her thick, brown hair aside to reveal the name ‘GAUNT’ going across the top in sparkling silver letters. “All of us girls are going to be wearing one today. It was Pansy’s idea, so try and say something nice to her about it.”

“Is there a spell to add the name?” you inquired,

“Yeah,” she confirmed, “We bought them blank, but the back can be spelled to display a name or number in a house color if you want to support a specific player.”

“What’s the spell?” you inquired, as an idea struck you.

“It’s… er… ‘pin-gear’,” she answered, “It’s a combination of the latin word for ‘to paint’ and ‘gear’ since you’re using the spell to paint Quidditch gear.”

“Let me try,” you requested, “I’ve been practicing my wand writing since Professor McGonagall called me out on my wand movements at the start of term.” You drew your wand and pointed it at her back when she turned around. “Pingear!” Sparkling silver ‘paint’ appeared from the point of your wand and expanded to form a blocky line as you drew your wand down her back to paint a number like professional Quidditch players wore. You added a second line going across the bottom and a slanted line at the top. “You’re all set, Number One, which is better than me since I’m still waiting on my gear. I reckon I’ll find it waiting in the changing room before the match. I hope it fits right.”

Your wand vibrated as your alarm went off again. “Ah! First potion’s done.” You removed the cauldron from the heat source and scraped the Lightning Bruise Remover out into a new vial. “The other one’s got another six minutes.”

“Have you been here for two hours already?” Millicent asked as she eyed the two purple pastes set on the rack.

“More like an hour and a half,” you replied. “I’ve got the brewing time down to forty-two minutes. Professor Snape popped in while I was in between batches and gave me a point for being prepared and productive.

“We should head outside so you can get some fresh air,” she advised, “You need a clear head going into the match and spending two hours confined in a small room breathing potion fumes sounds like it’ll make you foggy.”

When you were done scraping your first potion into the vial, Millicent took the emptied cauldron from you and brought it to the wash station to clean it. This allowed you to keep you focus on your potions.

“I suppose I could go for a stroll,” you reasoned. You used your knife to carve a lightning bolt into the cork on your two vials of fast-acting bruise remover and slipped them into your left boot.

“We need to get you a pouch or a belt of some kind to store your potions,” Millicent remarked from the sink after spotting you stowing your potions.

“My boot worked fine during last night’s practice,” you reasoned, and noted that the larger witch was able to put some extra pressure into her scrubbing and scraped the purple residue off the cauldron a lot faster than you did. “I’ll be sure to stash these four in the changing room before the match. ‘Boggling’ is the foul for getting caught smuggling potions onto the pitch. Although, it’s mainly meant to prevent players from using dangerous, corrosive potions or poisons to harm their opponents.”

The second potion finished and you scraped the paste into a new vial, then passed off the cauldron to Millicent as you stowed both regular Topical Bruiser Removers in your right boot. With Millicent washing the second cauldron, that freed you to tidy your work station and stow your ingredient containers and equipment in your Potions kit.

“One last thing,” you said before you left the lab. You retrieved your House Point Ledger from your school bag and added the latest point Professor Snape awarded you. “Can I ask you a favor? Would you mind keeping a tally of my saves today? I want a record of how many points I prevent Ravenclaw from earning. If possible, use a separate line for each Chaser so I know how many shots each one took. Those statistics could be useful.”

Millicent looked appropriately reverent as she took your ledger and carefully tucked it inside her jumper. Giving it to her most likely meant you’d have a group of nosy Slytherin girls probing through the meticulous record you kept of your earnings, but there wasn’t really anyone else you’d trust with it.

You returned to your dorm room to drop off the rest of your things and found your roommate just waking up. “Morning, Draco!” you called out to him, “It’s ten to eight. Best get a move on.”

Millicent was waiting for you by the door and was now wearing her Mittens hat and her Slytherin scarf. You smiled and handed her your Omnioculars. “To help you with your tally. Save any scenes that strike you as interesting.”

The two of you were soon treading the familiar path through the dungeons towards the front of the school that you took yesterday.

“Oh, you’re a girl,” you realised.

“Wot? Is THAT why I’m on your witch list?”

You shook your head and reached out to pointedly pat her cheek, “Look, she’s being cheeky. I told you lot when I got back late last night that Jones found me outside the broomshed after practice and I walked her back to the Hufflepuff common room. But I didn’t share what we discussed, mainly because I was tired and it wasn’t anyone else’s business. I could use a witch’s perspective to see if it’s some kind of trap.”

“A trap?” she repeated.

“Listen to this….” you prompted, as you went up the stairs from the dungeons, “Megan gave me permission to snog witches in my Top Four.” Your Number One’s face flushed pink. “But how do I know it’s not a strange Hufflepuff loyalty test? Where I have permission, but I’m not supposed to go through with it.”

“Erm… I’m gonna need more context,” Millicent requested as she realised why you were asking HER, “What did she actually say?”

“She doesn’t want to come across as petty, possessive, or jealous,” you recounted, “She took Parkinson’s actions as a template for what NOT to do. It’s not everyone, only the Top Four. For Farley, it’s a matter of appeasement. She doesn’t want to be on her wrong side and fear for her safety if she ever finds herself alone in a corridor with the infamous Prefect Farley.”

“Have you and Farley snogged?”

“Not the point,” you stated, “Megan thinks throwing me at Gemma might spare her a painful spanking. For YOU, she said she doesn’t want to come between two best friends because that could cause both of us to resent her… and since I was nice to her best friend when you two left me alone in that closet with her… she’s willing to return the favor and be nice to my best friend.”

“Oh…” Millicent’s barely faded blush returned with a vengeance. You paused your trek near the staircase where Katie Bell nearly ran into yesterday. Chimes echoing from the clocktower informed you it was eight o’clock and students would be coming down for a late weekend breakfast. Once you ensured the coast was clear and no one was barreling down the stairs, you continued onward.

“But wait, there’s more!” you added, “Since you and Farley are both above her on the list, she said I don’t even have to tell her if I snog the two of you… as long as it’s only snogging. She just requests that we not get caught because she doesn’t want to hear rumors of us going behind her back. Conflict of interest aside, does that sound suspicious to you?”

“Kind of…” Millicent was the most empathetic Slytherin you knew. She seemed like the perfect person to ask.

“Come on, Millie,” you prodded, “You’ve gotta give me more than that. Does this sound like a Hufflepuff mind game? If you and I were dating… would you want me snogging other witches?”

“No,” she confessed. “If we were dating, that would bother me.” You remembered how touchy she was yesterday about you chatting up a lot of witches. “And there’s always a chance that she thinks this is what she wants… but changes her mind when she learns you’re going through with it and using her leniency. Or if someone else finds out about it, word spreads, and she gets painted as a doormat because she’s letting her boyfriend snog other witches.”

“And the last thing I want is for students from the Hogwarts house built on loyalty to start slinging around damning claims that I’m unfaithful. That doesn’t bode well for any of my future prospects.”

Instead of turning to head for the Owlery like you had yesterday, you continued forward to the castle’s front entrance and soon found yourselves standing out in the front courtyard basking in the cold morning air of the Scottish Highlands in February. The Warming Charms on your Irish robes kept you cozy and you assumed there were similar charms on Millicent’s jumper since needing to wear a cloak over it would defeat the purpose of having the name (and your added number) on the back.

“But then there’s one more twist!” you added while walking over to a railing that overlooked the edge of the lake, then turned around to lean back against it. “How would you describe my kissing?”

“Oh… erm… I liked it,” the proud recipient of your first kiss answered as her face somehow got even redder. The cat eyes on her hat were extra wide.

“I kissed you four times yesterday,” you recounted, “Describe them in one word.”

“Well… the first one was surprising,” she said, “The other three were… reassuring… calming… comforting…”

“But not magical?” you pressed.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t really know,” you admitted, “But that’s what Megan wants in exchange for her leniency. She wants a magical first kiss. Like the kind from a romantic fantasy that causes fireworks to go off in your head. She said, and I quote, ‘Don’t even think about kissing me until you’re sure you can pull it off.’ I don’t know if that’s caused by a special technique, chemistry between the kissing partners, romantic feelings, or an actual magic spell. But combined with the permission thing, it almost feels like she wants me to practice.”

“It could be a combination of all those things,” Millicent suggested. Her face was full BEET-RED now. “Erm… since I’m on the approved list… we could practice. Some of the other girls mentioned a special technique you might have a natural talent for.”

Now knowing that she fancied you, that was very bold of her.

“So you’re suggesting we set off the trap and see what happens?” you questioned. “Perks said in the closet yesterday that the key to earning a Hufflepuff’s trust is to keep being open and honest… would you be opposed to kissing in front of Jones? That way we’re literally not going behind her back, and we can both gauge her reaction to us ‘practicing’.”

“I… erm…. yes?” she squeaked. HER HAT was starting to turn pink.

“Easy, Millie,” you reassured her, “Take a few deep breaths, calm yourself. I don’t want you fainting on me.” You searched the area for a convenient change of subject and spotted a stone pathway that went from the courtyard, swung around to go down a decline that ran between the edge of the lake and the side of the castle, before ending at a pair of large double doors below the railing you were leaning on. “What’s down there?”

“That’s the carriage storehouse,” Millicent answered as she came over to stand beside you near the railing, “While first years take the boats across the lake when we arrive at Hogwarts, everyones else rides up to the castle in horseless carriages. We used them when we came back from the holidays. There’s a large fleet of them.”

“I reckon they have a few of them running during Hogsmeade weekends too,” you reasoned, “That saves some students from having to walk all the way down to the village.”

“What about Number Four?” she asked as she pointedly stared out at the lake.

“Hm?”

“You said Jones’ rules for Number One and Number Two,” Millicent recounted, “And you explained what she wants as Number Three. But you said Top Four. What’re the rules for that one?”

“Well, since that’s more of a wildcard spot…”

“You mean, ‘subject to your random whims’,” she interrupted, basically quoting Tracey Davis and knowing that you placed a newly acquainted mermaid in that spot on your witch list.

“Let’s compromise and say situational,” you bartered, “That’s the word Jones used. She rationalised it that since Number One and Number Two are above her… then she doesn’t need to know about them. But since Number Four is below Number Three… if I snog someone while they’re in that spot… that’s when I’m obligated to tell her about it. She named a few examples… like Chell… or that Lady-Centaur you were both going on about. She even said she might toss Perks in another broom closet with me, dictate that she’s my new Number Four, and I would then be expected to snog Perks.”

“Would you do it?” Bulstrode pressed you, “Being nice to her muggleborn friend is one thing… but snogging her is another matter. Would you snog a muggleborn if Jones asked you to?”

“I think of it less as snogging a muggleborn and more as snogging Megan’s best friend,” you answered. “She said yesterday that Perks was the dealbreaker.”

“Maybe that’s her motive?” Millicent suggested, “She lets you snog witches who are important to you… and in exchange you snog a witch who’s important to her. Girls like to be able to compare notes about boys. Your kissing prowess comes up a lot in the Slytherin girl dorms. I can’t tell you specifics… but Pansy has some ideas that she’s generous about sharing in our dorm room. Maybe that’s what Jones is after? Support. From a Hufflepuff perspective… dating a Slytherin pureblood is a controversial decision. But if she can share your magic kisses with her best friend… then she’d have backup when the others are speaking out against you.”

“Abbott is very vocally and almost aggressively Anti-Gaunt,” you noted, “Bones barely speaks around me. But she knows more about my dark family history than most and has a legitimate reason to be wary of someone from the Gaunt family.”

“Come to think of it, whose fourth on your list today?” your Number One inquired.

“Mateo,” you replied. Granger’s standing as your top academic rival was replaced with the Quidditch rival you’d be facing today. “When the match starts later… I’ll be highly focused on her.”

“You said as much yesterday,” Millicent mused, then pointed toward the lake, “Also… she’s right over there.”

You turned and saw Ravenclaw’s veteran Chaser running alongside the lake. She was wearing a snug, long-sleeved athletic top that was split vertically down the middle with one blue side, one black, and inverted sleeves. Her bottoms looked like black joggers with blue stripes going down each leg. Gemma mentioned that she went running beside the lake when you were breaking in your Nimbus at lunch yesterday.

“I think I’ll pop down there and say ‘hello’,” you decided.

“She’s got her wand out,” Millicent warned you.

“Yeah, Gemma mentioned Mateo’s used to people trying to hex her when she’s on her morning run, which is why I’m NOT going to do that. I learned last night what happens when a first year takes on older students in a running duel. The first year comes up short.” Millicent snorted as she tried to stifle a giggle at the dig you made at your own height. “I doubt she’ll see me as a threat, but if something does happen, you can go for help.”

You left the courtyard and jogged down to the lake shore to meet the rapidly approaching sixth year Ravenclaw.

“Morning, Mateo!” you greeted her.

She slowed to a light jog, her eyes flicked to your empty hands, and then she stopped. Standing on relatively even ground less than four feet from her, you noted that she was a solid six inches taller than you. That put her at five-foot-nine. The athletic sixth year was taller than Megan and Millicent, taller than Lysandra Yaxley… but not as tall as Tamsin Applebee. “What do you want?”

“I met Fawley yesterday when she burst in on me in a broom closet,” you stated, “But since you’re the one I’ll be going head-to-head with today… I thought I’d take this time to come and introduce myself properly.”

“I know who you are. You know who I am. Why bother?”

“Proper manners? Good form?” you offered. Speaking of ‘form’, you noted how the athletic gear clung to hers. There was a zipper running down the middle of her top between the blue and black sections that reached her waist. The snug material meant, unlike with uniforms, you could see the exact shape and size of her B-Cup breasts as they sat high and proud on her chest. When compared to a similarly sized Lysandra Yaxley, you noted the extra width to the Ravenclaw Chaser’s chest that came from her athletic muscle tone, which Yaxley didn’t have. With your newly acquired knowledge of bra sizes, you estimated her to be 34B.

Her outfit was a one-piece jumpsuit with the top joined to the bottoms, which clung to her legs much like the top did with her chest. Unlike Gemma Farley, Evanora Rowle, or Artemis Fawley who flared outward at the waist to rounded, curvy hips, Mateo’s hips were notably leaner. Her lower curves were the prominent, bulging muscles in her thighs, built-up from running regularly. Further down, were a pair of similarly well-defined calves.

Never had the phrase ‘fit bird’ felt more appropriate.

“Eh-hem!” She cleared her throat.

You flushed upon realising you’d spent too long admiring her figure, and dragged her eyes back up to her face, which looked none-too-pleased. “My apologies, I couldn’t help admiring your muscle tone. Someone told me you had ‘thick’ thighs, but upon seeing them up-close, I realised that’s the wrong word. I think ‘powerful’ would be more appropriate. It’s clear that you built them up from running regularly.” Her eyes showed that she was still highly skeptical of your compliment, so you heaped on a little more to dig yourself out of your hole, “I’d wager if you joined us for your post-practice lap around the pitch… you’d smoke our entire team.”

She raised an eyebrow at the admission, “I ran track and field at the start of secondary school and here I run on the grounds everyday.”

“Really?” you questioned, “Even when you’re not training for Quidditch?”

“The cold air helps clear my head,” she stated, “I can focus better in lessons.”

“That’s why I came out here,” you admitted, “I spent the last two hours brewing a new batch of bruise potions. That centers me and clears my head. Millicent claimed the fumes would make me foggy, so now I’m out here breathing the fresh Scottish air.”

She didn’t respond. Either she wasn’t much for conversation or she didn’t want to talk to YOU - since you were facing off on the pitch later and you interrupted her morning run. “But you’d be the person to ask about this,” you motioned to her kit, “Is that Ravenclaw athletic gear from Gladrags?”

She blinked at the change of subject, “Yes…”

“Professor Sprout recommended it when I asked her about taking up swimming.”

“Swimming?” she repeated. THAT got her attention. She glanced over at the cold Scottish lake, “In that?”

“I need something to give me an edge and improve my conditioning if I want to keep my spot on the starting lineup when Bletchley’s back. There’s only so many times you can stare out at the lake through the Slytherin common room windows before wondering, ‘Hm, wonder what it’s like out there?’ I have a guide arranged… now I need to acquire a swim costume. Or I could wear something like that. What size do you think I am?”

She looked you up and down, “Small.”

You shrugged, “Sounds about right. Any special magical features I should know about?”

“Standard temperature regulation stuff,” she answered, “It molds itself to your body to keep loose bits from getting snagged, but remains flexible to allow full maneuverability. It also repels water so you’re not soaked in sweat. Not sure how that spell will function underwater.”

“I guess I’ll find out,” you mused.

Her dark eyes narrowed, “What do you want, Gaunt?”

“I already told you,” you replied, “I came to say ‘hello’ and to inform you that what happens on the Quidditch pitch today isn’t personal. It’s simply spirited competition.”

“And what’s going to happen on the pitch today?” the taller sixth year challenged you as she took a step closer.

“What I said at breakfast yesterday,” you said, “After all this drama, I need to put on a good showing to prove to everyone that I deserve to be out there. And since you’re the best Chaser on your team… that good showing has to come at your expense.” You flashed your teeth-baring snake fang smile, “Jessica Mateo… I am here to inform you… that I intend to shut you out today.”

Her eyes went wide, her jaw clenched, and her nostrils flared, “You cocky little bastard!”

You patted your green Quidditch robes, “Slytherin.”

Her eyes blazed as she stepped closer to tower over you, “In. Your. Dreams. I haven’t been shut out since I started on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.”

“I’m wide awake,” you assured her, “And I’ll be proud to welcome you to the new reality where I’m the first.” Your eyes briefly flicked down to her wand, then went back to her face. “Wanna make things interesting? In the spirit of friendly competition?”

“Slytherins aren’t friendly,” she insisted.

“Well, I try to be,” you insisted. “Let’s say I succeed in my outrageous claim and do what’s never been done… if I shut you out today… you’ll owe me something extra for proving a Ravenclaw wrong.”

She folded her arms across her chest, “And what’s that?”

She was your Number Four. “A snogging lesson.”

The sixth year’s eyes flew WIDE open. Whatever she was expecting… it wasn’t that. “WHAT!? I thought you fancied Jones?”

“I do,” you confirmed what was obvious to most of the school at this point, “But Megan has expectations that I must meet before I can entertain the idea of kissing her, so I find myself in need of a snogging lesson. Or a snogging tutor, I suppose. Who better to study technique with than a talented Ravenclaw?”

“Snogging is more Artemis’ thing,” Mateo informed you.

“I’m aware,” you replied, “But Gemma says she’s off limits. And, despite what some Slytherin first years believed yesterday, she’s not my Number Four. Today… you are. Besides, if snogging is her thing… then a snogging lesson from you will be that much more special.”

Her eyes narrowed defensively, “Is this because you’re into black girls? Do you think we’re interchangeable? Should I warn Johnson that you’ll be sniffing around her next November?”

If pressed for a description, Jessica Mateo was a shade or two lighter than Angelina Johnson and was more of a ‘milk chocolate’ compared to Angelina’s ‘dark chocolate’, which made for a striking contrast with Alicia Spinnet’s tanned caramel and Katie Bell’s pale vanilla. Whereas Megan Jones had the complexion of dark coffee with a modest splash of cream mixed in.

Also somewhat different was their hair. Johnson kept her dark hair tightly braid while Jones - by contrast - left hers as a loose, frizzy, kinky, dark cloud around her head. Mateo was somewhere in between as she kept her dark brown hair tied back in a simple, but efficient ponytail that fell to the middle of her back.

“If all goes to plan, I likely will be,” you admitted, “But it has nothing to do with your skin color. As far as this green Slyherin is concerned: you and Fawley are Ravenclaw blue… Jones, Applebee, and Macavoy are Hufflepuff yellow… and Johnson, Spinnet, and Bell are Gryffindor red. Here at Hogwarts, our houses set you apart more than our appearances.”

“Right, you pureblood wizards have a special kind of racism,” she retorted, still highly defensive. “You look through skin and judge people on their blood. Are you gunning for me because my father’s a muggleborn?”

“Your father’s a muggleborn?” you repeated. “First I’ve heard of it. I’m ‘gunning’ for you because you’re good, you’re the best Chaser on your team, and that means I’ll need to be BETTER than the best Ravenclaw to beat you. You’re the reason Ravenclaw is in first place instead of second behind Gryffindor, but I’M going to be the reason your score stays at two hundred.”

“…” She studied you silently as if trying to deduce if you truly believed what you were saying.

“…” You met her eyes and stared back without flinching.

“Fine, you little tosser,” the Ravenclaw resolved, “Since you desperately need someone to take you down a few pegs… today that’s going to be me. There’s an enticing appeal to spanking Farley’s favorite firstie. That’s what you’re going to get. One swat on the bum for every goal I score.”

You grinned and offered her your hand, “You’re on! Win or lose: I’ll meet you in the Ravenclaw changing room after the match so the loser…” You paused and mouth the word ‘you’, then continued, “…can pay their penalty.”

“Scared to take a public spanking?” she taunted.

“Do you want the entire school to watch you snog a first year?” The sixth year witch, who was at least eighteen, raised an eyebrow, “I’m not a sadist. You getting shutout by a first year in his first match is more than enough public humiliation for one day.”

“You’re a real piece of work, Gaunt,” Mateo said with a shake of her head.

“Maybe,” you agreed, “But I’ll leave the Ravenclaw with one final question to ponder: who would you rather be here on the lake shore with less than three hours before a Quidditch match with Slytherin? This uppity first year… or your yearmate Flint?” She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. Spending five-and-a-half years dealing with racist pureblood Slytherins like Flint was probably the source of her earlier defensiveness. “Remember that when you’re running this conversation back in your head and deciding for yourself whether or not I poisoned a housemate to get ahead. THIS is my style. No sabotage, no cheap shots, I’m confronting you face-to-face and openly declaring my intent to beat you at your BEST. Not because of your skin color, your blood status, or your sex… but because of your house and your talent.” You stepped back, brought your hand to your mouth, and blew her a kiss. “See you out there.”

She didn’t respond. Hopefully, that meant you’d gotten in her head. Flint might overlook the mental aspect of Quidditch, but you knew that mind games were an important part of the game… especially against a Ravenclaw.

You turned around and were surprised to find that Millicent was no longer alone in the front courtyard. For all you knew, Artemis Fawley had been perched overhead the whole time and swooped down from the rafters while you were occupied with Mateo… because the Ravenclaw Keeper was now leaning against the railing beside your best friend.

“Hello, Marvolo,” Fawley greeted you, dressed in her blue Ravenclaw Quidditch robes, which strained to close around her impressive chest. “Millicent and I were just discussing gift ideas for Miles.” Miles? “I’m afraid that with all this drama surrounding our match that he’s been left forgotten in the Hospital Wing.” Hospital Wing… OH! Miles Bletchley. Her informal way of referring to everyone by their first name threw you.

“Well, I’m one step ahead of you,” you informed your rival Keeper. “I figured after being poisoned, he’d be wary about drinking anything for the foreseeable future… so I arranged for someone to get him a nice flask.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” the Ravenclaw remarked, “And if it’s a unique design then there’s less chance of someone using a Switching Spell to swap it for another poisoned goblet.”

“Yes, that was part of my thought process,” you stated, “I suppose you could get him something nice to put in his new flask. I doubt he’ll be keen on pumpkin juice for a while.”

“I remember seeing him enjoying some butterbeer with Cassius, Graham, and Miranda at the Three Broomsticks last term,” the sixth year recounted an observation from a Hogsmeade weekend. You had no idea who ‘Miranda’ was. “I’ll write to Madam Rosemarta and see if I can procure a barrel for him.” She smiled a dazzling smile that made her bespectacled eyes sparkle, showing that this witch truly was THAT nice. “I should have it by the end of the day.” She maintained her bright smile, but tilted her head to eye you curiously, “What are you getting him?”

“Huh?”

“You said you arranged for someone to get him the flask,” Fawley recited your words from a moment ago, “That would imply you’re getting him something different.”

You flashed her your snake fang smile, “I’m getting him the best gift one Slytherin Keeper can give to another: a shutout against Ravenclaw.” You basically told Farley the same thing.

“Oh, really?” the Ravenclaw Keeper inquired.

“Mmhhmm,” you confirmed, “And when I succeed, Mateo’s agreed to give me a snogging lesson.”

“IF you succeed, you little tosser.” Mateo had apparently followed you over and was now standing behind you, “What’s more likely to happen is I’m going to take this brat over my knee and give him a well-deserved spanking.”

“Really?” Millicent asked with an exasperated huff. “You were talking to her for five minutes!”

“She’s my Number Four,” you defended yourself, “And it was a productive conversation.”

The six-inch-taller sixth year clasped your shoulders from behind. It seemed you had made a good impression. “He made one very good point. Marcus Flint isn’t going to throw himself across my lap and offer to let me spank him.”

“You suggested the spanking,” you corrected, “I accepted your terms.”

She squeezed your shoulders, “Either way, if this is the new direction the Slytherin Quidditch team is taking… then I approve. I get to teach a little pain in the ass what a real pain in the ass feels like.”

“Oh, you’ll be teaching me something alright,” you assured her. “Get ready to pucker up.”

Fawley turned to fully face you, and you found yourself caught between the two sixth years. “And what would your Number Three say about this wager?”

“Don’t get any bright ideas, information dealer!” you warned her, “Megan assigned me a task, and this impending snogging lesson is working towards that. I fully intend to tell her about my wager at breakfast. In fact, I think I’ll head there now.” You turned to your fellow first year, “Ready to go, Number One? Breakfast beckons.”

You slipped out from between the two Ravenclaws, grabbed your fellow Slytherin’s arm, and ushered her to the castle entrance.

“That’s an overabundance of cheek in such a small package,” you heard Mateo remark as you slipped into the castle.

Fawley replied, “I’m just concerned how ‘green eyes’ is going to react to you messing around with her first year. I honestly don’t know which would evoke the harsher reaction - the spanking or the snogging.”

The door shut and cut off the rest of their conversation. You looked over at Millicent, “Probably best not to mention the wager to Gemma.”

“I’m not the one with the **** wish.” Millicent stated, “You are.” She paused, then asked, “Are you really going to tell Jones about the bet?”

“I remember two girls betting me eight gallons that I’ll snog a centaur one day,” you pointed out, “So you know from experience that she has her own gambling problem. I think she’ll approve when she hears the full story, but I’ll be counting on you to help me gauge her reaction. If she gives off a sign that she’s not okay with me snogging Mateo… signal me, I’ll throw the bet and let one in.”

She stopped in her tracks and stared at you in surprise, “What about your shutout? You’d really throw that away to keep her happy?”

“I don’t particularly want to after mouthing off so much,” you confessed, “But I can handle one swat on the bum if it’ll keep me out of hot water.”

“Tell her that and it might win you some points,” your best friend suggested.

You reached the Great Hall at half-eight and were greeted by the sight of three witches clad in emerald jumpers with silver letters sitting at the end of the Slytherin table with their backs to you. Tracey’s short blonde hair hung loose and covered the top half of the name ’GAUNT’. Daphne’s long dark hair was tied in a ponytail with a green ribbon, which revealed ‘GA’ and the ‘NT’ on each side of it. Pansy’s short black bob completely revealed the words ‘GIANT GIT’ going across the top of her back. You gave her points for her choice of insult, both words started with a G and ended with T.

“Morning, ladies,” you greeted them, as you reached the end of the long table. “I appreciate the support.”

Parkinson’s gaze was frosty when she spotted the 1 on Millicent’s back. “Hogwarts Quidditch players don’t HAVE numbers!”

“Quit your squawking and I’ll give the rest of you one too,” you offered. You stepped around behind Tracey. Daphne craned her neck to watch as you pointed your wand at the left side of her best friend’s back, “Pingear!” You drew a silver ‘1’ that matched Millicent’s, then added a blocky ‘6’. “Yesterday, you dropped to the top of the bottom four for suggesting I should shave my head. Today, you’re wearing a Gaunt jumper, which shows a learned lesson and improved taste, so that moves you back up to sixteen.”

You didn’t have a set number for Daphne, aside from something vaguely in the middle of the pack. You decided on something that made sense based on the numbers you were giving the other two. After watching you add Tracey’s Vaunted Gaunted ranking, Daphne reached back and brushed her ponytail aside so you could reveal hers. You cast the paint gear spell again and drew another silver ‘1’ identical to Millicent and Tracey’s, then added a ‘2’ beside it. “Your list-gathering skills leave a lot to be desired, but now you at least know where you are, Number Twelve.”

Pansy was glowering at you as you stepped over to her, having deduced that the numbers were list rankings and knowing that she wasn’t on it. “If you draw a zero on my back, I swear I’m going to hex you!”

There was a zero in her number, “Shut up and let me do this, before I change my mind.” You looked across the table and sent Millicent a meaningful look as you remembered your conversation about Pansy from yesterday, and made it clear you were doing this more for HER benefit than Pansy’s. “I just know I’m going to regret this…” Parkinson had been a major pain in your arse all day yesterday… but today she was supporting you (while also insulting you). That counted for something. She made an effort, and you were stuck with her for another six years whether you liked it or not, so you decided to try and make peace with the unpleasant girl. “Imagine she’s Gemma as a first year.” You cast the spell again and drew a silver ‘2’ like the one on Daphne’s back then added a ‘0’. “Welcome to the list, Parkinson. Feel free to tell Bottom Bell that you stole her spot.”

A smirk spread across Parkinson’s face, “Hah! You caved!”

You rolled her eyes and let her have that one. After spending a good chunk of yesterday tearing each other down, you felt better about making her feel something positive. You didn’t necessarily want to reward her bad behavior, but you did want it to STOP. Hopefully, throwing the bitch a bone would help.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Parkinson,” you warned her, wanting her to know that her presence on your list was conditional. “You want to insult me? Fine. But if I hear another overtly racist remark from you… you’re off and you’ll stay off. I trust your parents taught you basic manners and how to conduct yourself during social events among people you’d rather not associate with. Use them. Because there’s no place on my list for a witch who can’t conduct herself in polite society.”

Millicent at least looked pleased that you were giving her annoying roommate a chance, then she did her part and fixed Parkinson a firm stare, doubling down on your warning for her to mind her manners.

Daphne and Tracey had, almost predictably, pulled out their list and were making adjustments to the bottom. They’d replaced Katie Bell with Pansy Parkinson and moved Tracey Davis up. The lack of a mermaid showed that your Number One hadn’t revealed your secret liaison to her friends, so you decided to throw these two a bone as well.

“Swap these two,” you pointed to the remaining two Gryffindor Chasers that Davis had split up with her recent rise, “Spinnet’s above Johnson.” Mainly because Parkinson claimed the reverse and you wanted her to be wrong.

You went around the end of the table and took your seat beside Millicent, which left you across from Parkinson and Greeengrass. You were helping yourself to a hearty breakfast of starch and protein when Greeengrass blurted out, “Who’s fourteen?” Likely looking to fill the two-name gap between her and Spinnet.

“Well, since you’re asking me directly…” you briefly stalled as you thought of a name, “That’s Rowle. She’s quiet compared to Farley and Yaxley, but her explanation about ‘bondage’ yesterday tells me she’s a witch I should underestimate at my own peril.”

“What about thirteen?” Greengrass pressed her luck.

“I already gave you your free one,” you stated, “My charity and goodwill only goes so far.”

Daphne elbowed Tracey, and the blonde half-blood asked on her behalf, “What about thirteen?”

“That spot is reserved for a Hufflepuff,” you explained. Perks was promised a spot in the middle near Daphne. “She knows what she needs to do to earn it.”

Millicent smiled as she caught the relation between that spot and the one belonging to another prominent Hufflepuff, “Three and thirteen?”

“Funny how that works out,” you remarked.

“Yeah, ‘funny’,” Davis said with a roll of her eyes that showed she knew it was intentional.

“Now put that away,” you requested, “That’s all you’re getting from me today.”

“Are you nervous?” Pansy offered a change of subject.

You went with it. “Honestly? No. I’ve been attending practice since term started, I got a shutout last night, and I have a top-of-the-line broomstick to give me an edge… I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be. At this point, I’m anxious to get on with it.”

You tentatively ate your breakfast and green tea, taking time to ensure none of it was tainted. Draco and the boys arrived midway through. Crabbe and Goyle didn’t notice, but Malfoy, Nott, and Zabini all sighed in relief at the sight of you and Parkinson seated across from each other at a table and NOT at each other’s throats.

“Are you ready?” Draco asked when he took a seat beside you. You noted that Blaise Zabini chose a seat on the outskirts of the group, putting him as far as possible from Parkinson. Maybe he heard some of her overtly racist remarks from yesterday and was giving her a wide berth? You’d done your pat to curb it.

“You’ve seen me at practice,” you pointed out, “You’d know that better than anyone else here. At this point, it’s mostly the anticipation that’s getting to me. I’m eager to get out there and prove my worth. It’s only been a few weeks since term started, but it feels like we’ve been building up to this match for years.”

Everyone settled in and breakfast was soon fully underway. None of the food or drinks had been tainted and you mostly finished eating and poured yourself a second cup of green tea. The other members of the Slytherin Quidditch team arrived already wearing their uniforms. Flint was wearing a hood that hid his painted face and he sat with his back to the Hufflepuff table so no one could peek at the design ahead of time. Gemma showed up shortly after and hissed at you as she went by, “Hope your morning was better than mine.” Which, fortunately, meant she hadn’t heard about your bet with Mateo while she was holed up in Flint’s dorm room.

The arrival of the first year Hufflepuffs made you smile, because two of their number were wearing dark green Holyhead Harpies uniforms. You nudged Millicent, then caught Megan’s eye and nodded at the door as you rose from the bench. Both the Holyhead Harpies uniforms clearly belonged to Megan, with Sally-Anne wearing one that her best friend had outgrown. But a uniform that was small on Megan Jones was still large on Sally-Anne Perks. As you got closer you spotted the name ‘JONES’ going across the top of their back in the customary gold letters.

“Hello, Hufflepuffs,” you greeted the group as you approached, “Perks, you’re practically swimming in that thing. Do you need someone to cast a Shrinking Charm to resize it?”

“I don’t really mind it,” she said as she raised her arms to better display the sleeves hanging down past her hands. “The Warming Charms are covering more of my body. If this is what wearing Casual Robes is like, then I can already see the appeal.”

“Gaunt, still Irish?” Macmillan questioned.

“You saw I was still wearing this when I stopped off at your common room last night,” you pointed out. “Flint was holed up in his room working on a special surprise, so I’m not going to get my gear until right before the match.” You looked up at Megan, “A word, if you please. I need to tell you about a bet I made earlier this morning. I wanted you to hear it from me, rather than someone else. You can bring Perks along if you want a witness.”

“Cozy Closet Coven, Take Two!” Perks called out.

“Perks, a coven is a collection of witches,” Millicent corrected her with a pointed glance at you.

“So I’ve been told.” the muggleborn replied, “but I liked sound of the three Cs,”

“I practice witchcraft,” you offered. “In fact, my ranking in Potions says I’m quite good at it.”

“Wait… then what’s the difference between witchcraft and wizardry?” Finch-Fletchley asked. “I thought it meant boys and girls.”

“It’s based on the disciplines and styles of magic,” you explained, “Wizardry covers the traditional wand-based subjects like Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the subjects that take a more scholarly approach to magic. Witchcraft is the term for magical disciplines that don’t require a wand like Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, and subjects that use the magic of nature. There’s some crossover, like the final flourish used in some potions or the spells used to tame and nurture certain magical plants… but that’s the general difference.”

The expression on some of the other Hufflepuffs’ faces showed that it wasn’t only Finch-Fletchley who had been confused on the difference. Deciding to end on that high note, you nodded at the other Hufflepuffs, then led the three witches in your ‘cozy closet coven’ out of the Great Hall.

“Where are you going, Parkinson?” you heard Hannah Abbott call out behind you as the door closed. “This is clearly a private discussion and you weren’t invited. You’re not that ****, are you?”

“She must be,” Susan Bones chimed in, now that you were on the other side of a closed door. “She’s only twenty.”

“At least I’m ON the list!” Parkinson argued. Not even on for a full hour and she was already lording it over people.

“We don’t want to be on it, you cow!” Hannah responded with hostility she normally reserved for you.

“That’s rich,” Pansy scoffed, “a half-blood known for her blonde PIG-tails calling someone a cow!”

“There’s nothing wrong with wearing PIGtails at HOGwarts,” Susan defended her friend.

You shook your head in amusement as you walked away from the door. Abbott and Bones might not like YOU, but they were loyal enough to Megan to run interference and keep Parkinson from injecting herself into their friend’s semi-private conversation.

The four of you went down the hallway toward the stairway that led to the basement, and went a little bit past it.

“Right… so…” you began, “Remember that miracle you wanted me to perform? Depending on the outcome of a bet, I may have arranged a snogging lesson.”

“Oh?” You saw surprise on her face but a lack of surprise on Perks’, which meant Megan told her best friend about your arrangement. You looked over at Millicent who was here to gauge Jones’ reaction, but she gave you no sign that things were off.

“Millicent and I went out for air about an hour ago and saw Mateo finishing her morning run,” you explained, “She’s my Number Four today. And since she’s friends with the broom closet queen Artemis Fawley, then I reckon she might know a thing or two about snogging.” No over-the-top response and no warning from Millicent. “The bet goes that if I manage to shut her out during the match today… I win and I get a snogging lesson from her. But if I can’t shut her out, then she wins and she gets to spank me once for every goal she scores.”

Jones blinked, then flashed you that dimpled grin, “You put your arse on the line for me?” Was she… flattered?

You looked over at Millicent, and saw from the wide eyes on her cat hat that she was also surprised by the reaction. “That’s not all,” your Number One added. She stepped closer to your Number Three and whispered in her ear.

“WHAT!?” The younger cousin of a professional Quidditch player exclaimed, “DON’T LET HER SCORE! That goes against everything Keepers stand for! And you’d be doing her a disservice too by sabotaging yourself! If you can shut the bird out, then SHUT HER OUT! This debut match could set the tone for your entire Hogwarts Quidditch career! None of the other Keepers managed a shutout this season, but you still could!”

“So… you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” She asked, “You’re doing exactly what I asked you to do.” She smiled, “You must really want to snog me if you started on my miracle first thing in the morning!”

Once again, Megan Jones the Walking Wildcard threw you as she came at something from a completely different perspective. A glance at an equally bewildered Millicent showed that this was NOT a witch thing, but Perks’ bright smile said it could potentially be a Hufflepuff witch thing. Or perhaps an exclusive THEM thing.

“Points for honesty,” Sally-Anne noted, “He came right up and told you as soon as possible.”

Jones eyed your housemate, “So he still thinks it’s a trap?”

“Erm… yeah,” Millicent answered.

“Slytherins,” the Hufflepuff huffed, “So untrusting.” She glanced between you and Millicent and her dark eyes sparkled as that dangerous dimpled spread across her face once more. Before you could react, she stepped forward, grabbed you by the shoulders, and spun you around to face the other way. You blinked in surprise and saw Mateo and Fawley standing down the hallway in front of the Great Hall doors.

Mateo was now in her Ravenclaw uniform. It was impressive that she made it all the way up to Ravenclaw tower, cleaned herself up, changed, and came all the way back down the Great Hall in such a short time. Perhaps going up and down all those stairs was the second part of Mateo’s morning workout?

“Hey, Mateo! Sir Snogs-a-Lot told me everything!” Jones called down the corridor, “I spied on the Slytherins at practice last night. I saw for myself that this charming knight can make miracles happen! Get ready to pucker up!”

Fawley smiled, “Well, what do you know, an honest Slytherin.”

“Looks more like an aspiring squire than a full knight,” Mateo remarked, then noted the two Harpies uniforms, “And I spy some green Hufflepuffs.”

“The wider the point margin Slytherin wins by today, the greater chance we have for Slytherin versus Hufflepuff to be the final match of the Inter-House Quidditch Cup.” Megan announced, “Today, we’re Team SlytherPuff!”

“SlytherPuff?” you repeated.

“HuffErin didn’t sound as good,” Perks piped up, “Besides, today’s a Slytherin match, so we thought we’d give your house top billing.”

“What about SlytherHUFF?” you suggested, “It’s only a one letter difference, but that way you start with the iconic Hufflepuff ‘H’ and can abbreviate it as S.H. and know which houses it represents.”

“There you go, trying to use logic again,” Megan chided you.

“Using logic is generally how thinking works,” the Ravenclaw Chaser ahead of you imparted.

“Ugh, such a Ravenclaw response,” the Hufflepuff Finder behind you huffed, “There’s more to a team name than logic and practicality. There’s vibes too! SlytherPuff feels right!”

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall opened and everyone froze as Gemma Farely walked out.

“What’s going on out here?”

A pair of sapphire daggers were piercing into Fawley, who hadn’t really done anything.

“Ask Team SlytherPuff!” the Ravenclaw Keeper replied, then grabbed her teammate’s hand and raced past the Slytherin Prefect into the Great Hall.

Gemma glared after the two Ravenclaws as the doors swung closed behind them, then rounded on your group. “I had to clear a squabble between Parkinson, Abbott, and Bones to get through. So I ask again… what’s going on out here that’s so important?”

“You’re right on time!” Megan informed her, “Our cozy closet coven was about to perform a good luck ritual! We needed a fourth!” She reclaimed her hold on your shoulders, spun you around again to face her, leaned down, and kissed you on the forehead. “There’s one from Number Three.” She turned you toward Millicent, “You’re up, Bulstrode.”

Millicent’s face went pink as she shot the Hufflepuffs a nervous side glance, then leaned in and kissed your cheek. Megan’s reaction was to smile wider.

“That’s a second from Number One,” she resolved, “Sally, you’re subbing for Mateo as Number Four.”

The Hufflepuff pixie pushed herself up on her toes and pecked you on the chin. “That’s three! Aw, he’s blushing!” You were spun around again, and this time with all the extra blood rushing to your head to colour your blush, you stumbled backwards and fell against your spinner. But she caught you and supported you.

“She’s strong,” you noted. Then again, you learned that yesterday when the tall girl flipped you on your arse and when you passed off the pint-sized Perks to her when you left the broom closet.

Meanwhile, on your other side, Gemma had crossed the corridor in the time it took for you to be kissed by a pureblood, a half-blood, and a muggleborn in quick succession. Her wand was drawn and she looked annoyed.

“Your turn, Farley!” Megan called out, “This cheeky scamp told Jessica Mateo to her face that was going to shut her out today. He’s gonna need all the luck he can get to pull that one off. And you know four’s his lucky number.”

Sapphire blue eyes went wide in surprise.

“I saved you a spot on his other cheek!” Perks piped up.

A hand squeezed your side as a silent sign that you were expected to chime in now. “Erm… if this Team SlytherHuff coven ritual is going to work–”

“SlytherPUFF!” Perks interjected while Jones’ squeezing hand PINCHED your side.

“–then it needs to be balanced. We’ve got two Hufflepuffs, so now we need a second Slytherin to keep it square.”

“If you’re not willing,” Millicent offered an ultimatum, “I could always go get Parkinson. Number Twenty could be a substitute for Number Two.”

“Oh, please, no!” Megan protested. Her squeezing got notably tighter, which showed how she reacted when she didn’t want you being kissed by someone, “If Farley doesn’t want to play, and we need a Slytherin substitute, then at least get Greengrass. Twelve has a ‘two’ in it and is ranked higher.”

Maybe there was merit to this Slytherin-Hufflepuff alliance? Because Gemma caved.

“Fine,” she conceded, “But only because I want to see you tear her apart today.” She cupped your chin, “And also, because this face is a lot cuter than the one I had to spend my morning painting.” She leaned towards Millicent to kiss your opposite cheek. “That’s four. You crazy Fwooper. Good luck.”

“Yeah! Lucky Four!” Megan cheered at the success of ‘her’ unexpected pre-match ritual.

You felt a brief glimmer of hope that Megan’s approach of appeasing your two strongest Slytherin supporters might be the thing that allowed your inter-house relationship to endure.

But then the conversation took a turn because of one simple question.

“What’s a Fwooper?” Sally-Anne asked.

“A magical bird native to Africa,” Millicent answered. “Its song is said to cause insanity.”

“In Arithmancy,” the fifth year prefect lectured, “there’s a creature scale where a different magical creature is associated with the numerical symbols from zero to nine.” Her eyes flicked to Millicent, “You and the other Slytherin girls will learn about it in September. For example: three is associated with a Runespore - a three-headed snake where each head has its own personality. Five is a Quintaped.”

Bulstrode blinked as she recalled her creature knowledge, “Aren’t those vicious, violent five-legged monsters covered in ginger fur that eat people?”

Gemma smiled a ‘snake fang’ smile that showed way too much teeth as she stared at her, “Yes. They are.” You actually heard Millicent swallow as she took a step back. Farley flicked her drawn wand and called out a familiar spell, “Enpalmo!”

“YAAAH!” Megan yelped and lurched behind you as she felt the phantom swat on her bum. She took a stumbling step back.

“Hands off, Jones,” the Slytherin prefect scolded the Hufflepuff first year. “You should know better than to fondle a boy in front of a prefect.”

Perks scurried back to stand with the other two, leaving you standing alone in front of Gemma Farley.

“A Fwooper is associated with the number four because of the four vibrant colours they come in,” the fifth year continued her creature lecture. “Pink, orange, yellow, and lime green.” Her eyes went from you in your light green Irish uniform to the two Hufflepuffs behind you clad in dark green. Yellow and green mixed together made lime green. “And with all you’ve been twittering and squawking the last two days, it’s like you’re driving the entire school insane.” She eyed the four of you then turned to leave. ”Behave yourselves.”

“That could’ve gone better,” you admitted as you turned to face the three witches. It wasn’t lost on you that no one opted to tell Gemma about the bet with Mateo or Megan’s offer of ‘appeasement’. “But it could’ve gone worse too. I think she might be coming around. She could’ve spanked you a lot worse. That seemed like a one-off warning slap. I got a bunch of those yesterday.”

“Tell that to my bruised bum,” Jones complained as she reached back to rub her rear. “Seems we’re both putting our arses on the line for this thing.”

“There may be hazards,” you confessed, “but there are also…” You paused for effect and eyed Sally-Anne, “…some wonderful perks.” The muggleborn girl giggled at your pun. You reached down and pulled a vial of bruise remover out of each of your boots, “I’ve got regular strength or lightning-fast. Made fresh first thing this morning. Regular strength is better for soreness. The fast-acting version is a modified brew that heals minor surface-level bruises in a matter of seconds. Which do you want? Lady’s choice.”

Megan took your custom brew of Lightning Bruise Remover and eyed it curiously. Millicent smirked before she ‘stage whispered’, “Think of him when you apply it.”

Jones’ eyes practically bugged out, “To my BUM!?”

“Yes,” your Number One confirmed, “As you just learned firsthand… sometimes sticking with him lands you in heaps of drama and can be a pain in the arse. But as it soothes the lingering sting and clears the blemish like it was never there, remember that he’s typically sweet unless provoked, usually has good intentions, and I can guarantee you that studying with him will cause your Potions marks to improve. I’m far enough along to guess that he added extra Dittany for potency, then compensated by stirring for longer to break down the extra and smooth the texture.”

You smiled, “Millie, I’m so proud. If I was a Potions professor, I’d give points.”

Millicent smiled back, then her hat’s ears flicked as her smirk returned, “Oh, and that custom brew sounds perfect for removing the bruises and hickeys you get from snogging.”

“Heh! As expected of the Charming Knight, Sir Snogs-a-Lot!” You were watching Megan carefully as she made her defensive-sounding remark and - as a Keeper - you were skilled at perceiving subtle ticks, so you noticed the cues: the way her eyes dipped, how her elbows tucked in to her sides, and - because of your practice with the Colour Change Charm and identifying shades in potions - you spotted the faintest rosy tint on her dark cheeks.

“Oi! What’s this!?” you exclaimed as you slowly reached out and gently brushed her warm cheek with your fingertips, which caused her dazzling dark brown eyes to flutter, then you grinned at Perks who teased you earlier, “The brash finder of House Hufflepuff is blushing!”

The dangerous dimpled grin returned as she stepped closer until you were practically pressed together and emphasised her four-inch height advantage, “Careful, Keeper, you don’t want to play the blushing game with me. You’ll lose.”

“Maybe,” you retorted, “But I learned yesterday that the fun and entertainment comes from watching you get worked up during it.”

“If you didn’t have a Quidditch match in two hours… I’d—”

You didn’t find out what she’d do, because Millicent grabbed the back of your robes and yanked you away from her. “That’s enough. Farley said to behave yourself. If we let this keep going, you two are gonna break something.”

Sally-Anne stepped in front of Megan to create further separation, “I almost thought we’d need to get a hose. You should probably cool off and refocus before your big match. We don’t want that SlytherPUFF coven ritual to go to waste.”

She was probably right. You gave a cheery wave and a hopeful smile, “Find me after the match?”

Megan grinned back, “Count on it.” She grabbed her friend’s shoulder, “He keeps asking for it.”

“I know, I know,” Perks patted Jones’ arm, “But you said to separate you before things went barmy. And it looked like you were getting really close.”

After that, the rest of breakfast was uneventful. You drank another two cups of untainted green tea, received a steady stream of well wishes from Slytherin students, stopped off at the loo to relieve yourself of those four cups of tea, and then at ten - a full hour before the match was set to begin - you excused yourself and made your way out to the pitch. Everyone else playing in the match already had on their uniform, but you still needed to don yours and ensure everything fit right.

You stopped off at the broomshed to retrieve ‘Gemma’s’ Nimbus Two Thousand from your shared locker, then headed to the changing room… and there it was on the bench. A neatly folded, emerald green, silver accented Slytherin Quidditch uniform with the name ‘GAUNT’ going across the back. The robe was neatly folded on top in a way that told you Marcus Flint had NOT placed it there. Your money was on a Hogwarts House Elf.

It seemed more practical to put on the trousers first in case someone came in, so you took a moment to stash your broom and remaining bruise potions into an open locker then shuffled the emerald robe off to the side of the bench and removed your boots and Ireland trousers so you could don the white Slytherin trousers and fasten them with the accompanying black belt. You sat on the bench to pull on your high black boots, which came with built-in shin and knee guards. The trousers and the boots both fit perfectly… almost like they had been personally made for you.

You removed your vintage Darren O’Hare Ireland robe that had served you well this term and took the time to fold it and set it on the bench, then removed your light green Irish jumper, folded it, and laid it on the robe. Your green and silver Slytherin jumper was identical to the ones the girls were wearing, complete with the name ‘GAUNT’ going across the back, and like the rest of your kit - it fit you perfectly. You tucked your snake fang necklace into the collar.

The thick black leather pads were next. You stuck your head in and pulled the set down so the shoulder pads were in place at the top of your arms. The straps on the back pulled tight all on their own as the chest guard was pulled flush against you. You twisted and swung your arms to ensure you still had your full range of movement, then did some bends and twists to make sure they felt right. Despite being made of thick leather, the sturdy Keeper pads felt like they barely weighed anything. They wouldn’t weigh or slow a flying wizard down at all.

You breathed a content sigh of relief as you - at long last - pulled on your emerald Slytherin robe. It was warm and felt like it was embracing you. The hem went down to your shins with a split in the back allowing for maneuverability and the sleeves went to your elbows. The bracers were strapped to your arms with the built-in elbow pads securing themselves to your joints in a way that didn’t impede their flexibility. Black Keeper gloves with padded palms were also included, but you set those aside on top of your Irish uniform and pulled your original Keeper gloves back on. These had been a generous Christmas present from Draco and they had served you well. You’d wear them until you outgrew them as a show of gratitude.

There was only one piece of equipment left… your helmet. Simple black leather that matched the aesthetic of the rest of your pads. Some players opted not to wear a helmet, but as a Keeper stuck within the confines of the scoring area, you were a frequent and favorite target of Beaters. Your brain was highly valuable and you needed to protect it!

But… maybe you could give your new helmet a personal touch? Megan repeatedly referring to you as Sir Snogs-a-Lot made you think you needed a proper helmet that matched the rest of your armor. You thought of a fun colour scheme and snake aesthetic as you picked your wand up off the bench and pointed it at your plain black helmet and cast, “Colovaria!”

The helmet turned a metallic emerald green with two scaly silver lines starting at the back, running along the sides, and joining together at the front to form the ridge of a snake’s crown. Two large yellow eyes with black slit-like pupils were below the ridge, level with your temples. There we go! A proper Slytherin serpent! Another Color Change Charm turned the straps white so they stood out and looked like two long fangs as you buckled them under your chin. And finally, your white gray, fifteen inch, aspen wand was carefully slid into the groove in the underside of your right bracer so that - in the event of an emergency - it could be drawn with a simple swing of your arm and a flick of your wrist.

“Not a squire anymore, Mateo,” you mused, “I’m a proper knight now.”

It took a lot of effort, drama, and maneuvering to get to this point… but you were finally here. Marvolo Gaunt, Slytherin Keeper - about to meet his destiny and play in his first Hogwarts Quidditch match.

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Marvolo Gaunt House Point Ledger

Severus Snape: +1

New Total: +107

Points awarded by: SS, RH, QQ, MM, FF, PS, + AD

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Appendix: Quidditch Robes

The purpose of the changing rooms is to give the teams a place to convene before the match and it’s where the teams don THEIR PADS! When I mention Quidditch players wearing their uniforms around the castle, they’re wearing THE ROBES - consisting of the trousers, jumper, and outer robe. The boots, gauntlets, pads, and helmets would be awkward to wear around the castle so they’re stored and donned in the changing room ahead of practice or a match.

I took my time describing the Quidditch uniform at the end because I wanted it to be clear that I’m using a combination of the costumes from the Harry Potter films.

I prefer the aesthetic of solid color robes with secondary color accents worn in Chamber of Secrets.

But I also appreciate the practicality of Ron’s extra pads in Half-Blood Prince since they’re playing a full-contact sport with two designated players on each team whose objective is to use bats to smash iron cannonballs into opposing players.

For my version, I combined the two by putting the COS robe over the HBP pads in a style similar to other full-contact professional sports like hockey, lacrosse, and American football. With the aid of magic, protective gear doesn’t have to be bulky, ill-fitting, or heavy. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws wear brown pads like Ron’s while the Slytherins and Hufflepuff wear black pads like Gaunt. Custom gear like brooms, gloves, goggles, and helmets can be used as per the players’ preference.

The COS Quidditch robes don’t have names on the back, but my version does because that’s something all athletes - both professional and collegiate - have for ease of identification.

Another thing I liked about the Half-Blood Prince uniforms was the addition of the player numbers. The original plan was to incorporate numbers and have Gaunt’s number be 4 in the Light Branch and 6 in the Dark Branch. But then it occurred to me that if I gave Gaunt a number, I’d have to give all the other players on the Slytherin team a number, and then I’d have to assign numbers to seven players on the other three teams as well! And that seemed like an obscene amount of extra work and effort considering I don’t even have full rosters for the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams. So, the number idea was sadly SCRAPPED, and I let the Slytherin girls have their Vaunted numbers instead.