The Plan

(17) Quidditch Doesn't Count As Work

-POV: ADIRA-

I'm currently sat at the table in mine and James' common room working on my charms essay - textbooks and papers sprawled out all over the table. I'm so engrossed in my work that I don't even hear the voice calling my name till they have repeated it a few times, or maybe I just can't be bothered to talk to them, who knows.

'Rose - '

'I'm busy Potter.' I reply annoyed and not looking up.

'I know but I need to do some work and you're hogging the entire table, so could you move some of your stuff?'

'Huh?' I reply, copying notes from my textbook and not listening.

He talks a bit louder, 'I said could you move some of your stuff so I can do my work?'

'Oh yeah, ummm sure', I pile some of my work up and he sits in the chair opposite, putting him papers on the table - are they Quidditch strategies?
'I thought you said you had work to do?'

He points at his pile of papers, 'I do'.

'Quidditch doesn't count as work.' I state.

He scoffs, 'It sure does.'

I laugh, 'It really doesn't, it's not even that hard to make up strategies.'

He laughs now, 'Oh really? I'd like to see you try.'

'Alright Potter you're on, if I win you have to agree to this club my friend wants to start up, and if you win - '

'You make me some of those cupcakes I see you give your friends.'

'You're on Potter', I hold my hand out for him to shake and he grabs it in a firm grip. His hand dwarfs mine and I feel a spark on my hand causing all the heat to move to that area feeling like it's burning me - God does he have to have such warm hands? I mean they're making me sweat and he keeps giving me these flipping electric shocks the dick.

I stack my work into a neat pile in the corner of the table while he spreads his sheets out and I move my chair closer to his so I can see them better. I take a long look at the sheets - shit this is not going to be easy, I shouldn't have been so cocky. There's all these weird diagrams and labels, I mean what the fuck does 'do a Weasley' mean?

I can feel him smirking at me, 'Not so easy is it Rose?'

'Just give me a fucking minute Potter, I may be a smartass but I'm not Albert fucking Einstein'. He chuckles, it's low and deep and I suddenly shiver - hmmm I must be cold, but then why do I feel so warm?

Then all of it sudden it clicks and I smirk - 'You're not using your beaters enough.'

'What?' He questions offended.

I repeat, 'You're not using your beaters enough - you're currently only using them as a defence not an offence, that's not gonna work work, not against Slytherin.' I shake my head.

'Well of course I'm going to use my bloody beaters to defend.' He says, exasperated.

'Yes but you need to use your beaters more, not just have them sitting there waiting to hit the bludger. See if you use your beaters as a distraction, have them follow around players, not just the ones who get the Quaffle, the other teams chasers will be so focused on not getting hit and trying to get them off their tails, they're bound to miss catching the Quaffle sometimes and miss scoring a few goals, thus giving Gryffindor the advantage. Simple but effective.'

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-POV: JAMES-