𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑 ❪ M. FLINT ❫

VI

"Hello, and welcome to Hogwarts first Quidditch game of the season." Lee Jordan's voice rang out, "Today's game, Slytherin versus Gryffindor!"

The school matron quickly made her way toward, glancing occasionally towards the h/c girl who quickly walked behind her. "Do you remember what I told you?"

"Yes, ma'am." The girl nodded, adjusting the medical bag on her shoulder. "Don't panic about the injury or else they will too. And try not to grimace at the sight of blood or a broken body part." She recited.

"Yes, good. Come now." Madame Pomfrey ushered her towards the entrance of the Quidditch pitch.

"The players take their positions as Madame Hooch steps out onto the field to begin the game." Jordans cheery voice ran out.

"Now, I want a nice, clean game from all of you." The grey haired witch stated, glaring at Flint causing the boy to look the other way.

"The Bludgers are up, followed by the Golden snitch." Lee Jordan informed the crowd. "Remember, the Snitch is worth 150 points. The seeker who catches the Snitch ends the game." Everyone watched with anticipation as Madame Hooch released the Quaffle. "And the game begins!"

"Slytherin takes possession of the Quaffle. Bletchley passes to Captain Marcus Flint." Y/n let out a small scoff when Flint kicked Alicia Spinnet's broom. Giving the male easy passage to score, the shot was quickly blocked by Oliver Wood, who offered him a satisfied look.

Gryffindor was now leading the game 20-0, the tension quickly flowed throughout the Slytherin stands. Flint, enraged, took hold of Montague's beater bat and hit the next Bludger towards Oliver Wood. The Gryffindor was hit causing him to fall off his broom and onto the sand below.

"There goes the first one." Madam Pomfrey shook her head.

The girl shook her head as Marcus easily scored the next Quaffle, she should have been celebrating, but she never did like how dirty he played. The Slytherin stands roared with cheers and hollers.

A gasp left the girls lips as she watched Angelina Johnson crash into the stands, courtesy of both Pucey and Flint. The next Quaffle passed the hoops, making the teams tied.

Madame Pomfrey took a hold of Y/n's arm muttering a small, "oh, dear." The girl followed her eyes, watching as Harry Potter was holding onto his broom tightly.

"What's he doing?" She asked softly. The raven haired boy then managed to reposition himself properly on his Nimbus 2000, catching up to Higgs.

The Slytherin was focused on the Snitch, watching it attentively as a means to not lose it. He then turned at the sound of a broom approaching, letting out a grunt as Potter cashed into him. The two watched as the Snitch flew lower into the ground, Higgs sent him a worried look as they dived closer to the green grass.

The crowd let out a gasp as the raven haired boy began to stand on his broom, attempting to inch closer to the Golden Snitch. The boy extended his right arm, letting out a grunt of effort. He suddenly leaped off his broom, rolling into the ground and getting up quickly as he held his stomach.

"Not on my grass." Madame Hooch hissed as the boy began to make retching motions.

He suddenly spit out the Golden Snitch onto his hand causing the Gryffindor stands to go wild. "He's got the Snitch, Harry Potter recipes 150 points for catching the Snitch!" Jordan exclaimed enthusiastically.

Madame Hooch flew around the pitch as she announced the victory of the red and gold house.

"Come on, dear." Madame Pomfrey stated as she neared the boy who was passed out at the bottom of the goalpost. "Mr. Wood." She spoke, patting the boy's cheek slightly. "Mr. Wood, can you here me?"

"Did we win?" The boy croaked out, his eyelids hooded as he stared at the two.

"Every time." Pomfrey muttered under her breath with a roll of her eyes.

"Stay here." She instructed the boy, taking supplies from the girl besides her and moving onto the limping girl, Johnson. "Rosier, watch him."

The boy's head fell backwards, his light brown orbs then shifted onto the girl beside him. "Did we win?" He repeated.

The girl nodded softly, watching as he pumped his fist into the air, only to quickly cradle it into his chest with a small whine. "I think it's broken." He groaned.

The girl dropped on her knees besides him, moving his arm away from his chest and examining it for herself. "No, I don't think so." She mumbled, "Might just be a strain. Nothing too major."

Looking up, she noticed him staring at her, his eyes quickly shifting to her and the figure behind her. "You might want to let go." His thick accent spoke, nodding his head. "I might have a strain for now, but he can quickly break it."

The girl furrowed her brows, turning in time to watch Marcus turn away and into the opposite direction. "You're Rosier, right?"

She nodded her head just in time for Madame Pomfrey to walk back towards them and help the boy up. Quickly dismissing the girl for the night.

Making her way towards the common room, a yelp left her lips when she bumped into a first year Hufflepuff. The Hufflepuff quickly apologized and scurried away front the h/c Slytherin.

She mumbled the password to the Slytherin common room, her bright orbs glancing around the gloomy room. A pair of younger students laid on the couch, giggling between themselves as they made faces towards each other. She soon noticed a figure in the table towards the back, head in their hands as they lazily looked at the book in front of them.

"Need help?" She whispered softly.

A set of ebony eyes snapped towards her direction. A scowl on his face as he gestured towards the seat besides him. "What are you working on?"

"Potions." He grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Montague told me to study before the game, but I couldn't."

"Pre-game jitters?" She asked, watching as he leaned back, nodding his head. Humming she glanced at the book, "Have you started the essay?"

"No," His eyes locked on her own, moving forward and shuffling paper around. "I've taken notes, but, no."

"Well, it should be easy then. Just write your notes into lengthy information." She glanced at him, watching as his eyes watched her every move. He nodded at her words, picking up his quill as he got to work.

She stood up from her seat, sending him one last glance as she spoke. "You know, Marcus, if you play fair... you might just win next time." The boy let out a scoff, glaring at her retrieving figure.