IX. Green and Silver

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All everyone was talking about was the quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor, the Great Hall filling with tension as the two opposing teams continuously exchanged jabs throughout the week.

Violet was dreading the match, the breakfast in her stomach churning into bile as the clock ticked. With Harry and Mattheo as the competing seekers, she knew the game would end in a foul mood no matter who won.

"Don't worry, Vi, you'll do great." Daphne nudged her shoulder, sensing her friend's inner turmoil. "Yeah, don't worry about it Violet. You're the best chaser I know!" Pansy added, taking a bite of her sandwich before leaning across the table and whispering, "With your boyfriend on the team, we'll be unstoppable."

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"What boyfriend?" Theodore asked as he swung an arm around her shoulder, sitting on the empty space at her left.

"Oh, you know, our little flower here has got an admirer." Pansy giggled, wriggling her eyebrows at Violet. She scowled at the nickname, faking a gag to show her disgust.

Theodore frowned, "Oh." The arm around her immediately retracted as if burned, his body inching away from her. "Who's the poor bloke?" He swallowed thickly, avoiding her gaze.

"Who else? Our resident bad boy, the prodigious potioneer, the star of our quidditch team; the tall, dark, handsome, Matt—" Daphne smacked Pansy's arm before she could finish her dramatic rambling, her nose turning to point slyly at Theodore's dejected figure. "Uh, I mean, t-the—" she spluttered, looking between Violet and Daphne for help.  Her mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

"Sorry, Theo." Daphne said apologetically, throwing her friend a glare. "Pansy is just being her delusional self again." The brunette stuck her tongue out at the remark, a teasing grin still etched on her face.

Violet rolled her eyes at the two, diverting her attention instead to the boy beside her, flashing him a small smile. She hoped he wouldn't probe into the matter, she wasn't ready to tell her friends about the betrothal. "Are you ready for the game, Theo?"

"A bit, it's my first time playing as a chaser," he admitted, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "Good thing I have Slytherin's star chaser with me," he grinned cheekily, stealing a piece of bacon from her plate.

"Alright, team! To the locker room!" Urquhart rose from the table and clapped his hands, urging his teammates to follow him.

And so, with much effort, Violet trudged her way to the field, anxiousness slowing her steps. She did not want to play.

Violet stood with the rest of her teammates, huddled in a circle inside their tent. "Like I said, I expect nothing but the worse from everyone!" Their captain reminded them, his tone rough and steady. "This is our chance to win the cup and show those greasy Gryffindors how pathetic they are, with or without scarhead on their team."

The players erupted in cheers, chanting a mocking song about Weasley and Potter, their feet stomping along the beat. Mattheo and Violet peered at the ruckus with disdain, unimpressed at their tomfoolery.

"Riddle," Urquhart went over to his side, clapping a strong hand at his back, "I want you to focus on the snitch, leave the rest to us."

"Noted, Cap." Mattheo replied coolly, and for a second Violet was envious of his composed self. Urquhart glanced at her, "and you, Lestrange, focus on Weasley, I heard he's been practicing." She could only nod at his order, sighing when their captain was out of earshot.

"Nervous?" He raised an eyebrow at her, he didn't like uncertainty on her pretty face.

She immediately thought back to their little spat weeks ago, a flush rising at her neck. "Yes," she confessed, surprised at her own honesty, "it's Gryffindor after all, they're quite good." Truthfully, Violet was more afraid to let the team down. Slytherins were vicious and cruel when they lose, and she didn't want to bear the brunt of their anger.

Mattheo passed her a bottle of water, "Fear doesn't suit you." He's gotten used to her fiery personality and witty remarks, that it was unusual to see her so quiet.

Her brows furrowed at him but she took the bottle from his grasp anyway, chugging its content in one swig. "Aren't you nervous? It's your first game."

Mattheo shrugged in response, "I'm feeling quite lucky today." He threw her a disarming smirk, eyeing the empty bottle in her hand.

Her eyes widened, catching the implication of his words as she glanced at the bottle then at the boy. "Y-you!!"

"Everyone out!" Their captain yelled before she could berate him for spiking her drink.

"Good luck, flower." Mattheo leaned towards her, "Although, I reckon you don't need it." He whispered, giving her cheek a quick peck. It happened so fast Violet thought she must've imagined it, but the butterflies in her stomach said otherwise.

***

The crowd of green and silver cheered as their team scored another point, leading the match with seventy points. What Urquhart said proved to be true, Ron had indeed been practicing as he effortlessly blocked some of Violet's quaffles. Yet, he was no match for the chaser with luck on her side. Quite literally.

Her eyes flickered briefly at the stands, her shoulders falling when she didn't catch sight of her parents. They never attended her games, they had no reason to.

Soon enough, the two seekers have spotted the golden snitch, orbiting each other as they shot onwards. She watched Harry lean forward on his broom, eyeing his competitor with frustration. The snitch soared high into the clouds, disappearing from eyesight, and the two followed suit. Once it had reached an alarming height, it stopped and plummeted down, baiting the seekers into a tricky situation. And bite the bait they did.

The crowd was chanting their names, curious to see who would back out first—the brave Gryffindor or the ambitious Slytherin.

Harry and Mattheo dived towards the sphere, not caring if they plunge to their death as they tried to best each other. Salazar, they're both mental, Violet thought. Harry was closing in on the golden snitch, his hand stretching to grasp it when Mattheo surged forward and jumped from his broom.

A gasp left everyone's lips as they watch him tumble to the ground, a sickening crack can be heard when his right shoulder took the force of his fall. "Bloody hell, he's crazy!" Urquhart said from beside her, his face contorting in horror.

Silence fell upon the field, the professors rising from their seats in worry. Violet quickly flew downwards, weaving her way through the crowd that had gathered around him. She grimaced at the sight of his cuts and scrapes, his arm bent at a weird angle.

He wasn't moving.

"CALL MADAM POMFREY!" Someone had yelled. Violet approached his battered body, kneeling down beside him, "Merlin, he's—"

"Got the snitch," he groaned, turning over to raise the golden snitch in his hand. The whistle was blown, "SLYTHERIN WINS!" and their crowd roared, chanting his name in a mantra. Harry had thrown his broom in anger, stomping away from the field with Ginny calling after him. Mattheo stood up on wobbly legs, swaying lightly as he clutched his side.

"There's my seeker!" Their captain beamed at him, his arm cradling the quidditch cup like a newborn baby. "Good game, Riddle. You should have seen the look on—"

Madam Pomfrey had shoved him, the cup slipping from his grasp and he dove to the ground to catch it.

"Out of the way!" She ordered, ushering the injured boy to the infirmary.

"You play well, Violet." A deep voice complimented, and she turned around to find her brother standing behind her.

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