The Turns of Time- James Potter Love Story

Chapter 8- Rivals

"Nice hair," Regulus smirked at Frannie's figure as he waited in the center of the Quidditch pitch, the early morning air still crisp from last night's rain.

"Don't speak of it," Frannie scowled, patting the emerald clump of curls. How James and Sirius had managed to sneak into the girl's bathrooms, she didn't want to know.

The Slytherin snorted, mounting his broomstick with ease and hovering a few feet in the air. "Hard to miss it." His silver gaze held a rare flash of curiosity. "What'd you do? Normally the Gryffindors are safe from their schemes."

"I called Potter a git," Frannie replied sourly, tossing a Quaffle from one hand to the other as she eyed the goal posts. "But he asked for it!"

Regulus rolled his eyes, pulling the clasp on his jersey robes tighter. "When does he not?" The younger Black pulled a golden snitch from his pocket, releasing the ball to flutter in the air, beginning to weave madly around his head. "Let's see if your last trick was just a stroke of luck, Smith."

Frannie's lip twisted into a smug smile as she narrowed her chocolate gaze. "Game on, Black." It was rather odd to use her surname when she wasn't referring to herself.

Regulus turned his broom to the right, coaxing it to a quick speed as he began to circle the Quidditch stands, skimming the benches where the students normally sat. Frannie opted to soar upwards into the breaking fog as the sun began to rise, casting everything into a golden hue.

She looked down at the pitch below, scanning the grass for any sign of movement. A hint of gold glittered at the bottom of the Gryffindor stand and Frannie sank into a dive, pressing her knees close to her chest as she approached the snitch.

Suddenly, she was shoved out of the way harshly, nearly losing her grip as her broom clipped the side of the wooden stadium. By the time she had regained her balance, the snitch had disappeared.

"Thanks a lot," Frannie snapped, glaring at Regulus, who looked rather proud of himself. "At this rate, we won't have time for breakfast."

Regulus adjusted his dragonhide gloves, pulling at the leather arrogantly. "If you were a true Quidditch fan, food would be much less important."

"I'm trying to help you!" Frannie retorted, her eyes growing in indignation as her tone softened. "I owe you, for not telling on a Gryffindor."

Her uncle shrugged, his brow wrinkling slightly. "I looked up your name. Seems the Smiths own several large manors in France."

Frannie froze, sending a prayer of thanks that a wizarding family with the same last name existed. "I see," she replied, shifting her position to be more comfortable as she headed back into the air, this time circling closer to the pitch. A large grin grew on her face as she urged the broom forward, zooming across the ground as she pretended to spot the snitch. To her surprise, Regulus actually fell for the trick, following right on her heels.

At the last second, Frannie pulled up, her arms brushing a Hufflepuff banner as a flash of gold caught her eye. She heard Regulus curse behind her as he slammed into the stand, nearly toppling from his broom. Frannie allowed herself a satisfied grin as she extended her arm, reaching to grab the snitch as it fluttered in front of her right side.

Suddenly, a Bludger raced at her face, causing her to swerve and allow Regulus to pass her. Her uncle grasped the snitch in his fist easily, his face lighting up in satisfaction.

"You didn't tell me you released the bludgers!" Frannie protested, sending the boy a playful glare. "Cheater."

Regulus seemed unbothered, his grey gaze gleaming as he landed on the ground, dismounting from the broom. "First thing I learned in Slytherin: secrets are power."