LYOVA RASMUSSEN - A Durmstrang Quidditch Captain.

Chapter 40 - BETTER WITHOUT

LYOVA RASMUSSEN - Durmstrang Quidditch Captain

Lyova was the first to enter the empty common room. She set her broom against the wall and took her usual place in front of the fireplace. After untying her quidditch robe, she took it into her hands, running her fingers over the embroidery.

Her fingers followed the lines of her name. Sighingly, she put it down and went to her dormitory. When she thought about it, it couldn't have ended better. Neither lost. Both teams played extraordinarily well. Lyova stepped into the shower and let the warm water run over her body. She rinsed her hair and washed away all the dirt and even a bit of grass.

After some time, she heard the noise in the common room rose. As soon as Lyova walked down the stairs, she was trapped into a bear hug by Alexe. He raised her from her feet and swung her around. Lyova yelped and laughed at him.

"That was the best game I've ever watched. You did everything right," he assured, as he set her back to the ground. Lyova slightly winced as she moved her shoulder, causing Alexej to frown. "Oh shit, I should have been careful. Sorry. Quidditch gets the best of me," he smiled sheepishly. Lyova shook her head. "It's fine, I---" She stopped talking as his smile faded.

"Listen, I meet you later, right? Got to catch up with Charlie," he said to her and turned around, leaving the common room.

"Lyova!"

Now she knew, why Alexej was so eager to leave. Irina Rasmussen approached her daughter with a gracious smile. "We are so proud of you, Lyova," she announced, carefully hugging her, before stepping aside. Vadim Rasmussen stepped forward, mustering the room. His eyes curtly lingered on a few piled papers on a table. Lyova wished she'd tidied up more.

Vadim Rasmussen's appearance was as impressive as ever as he stopped in front of her. He laid a hand on Lyova's healthy shoulder, clearing his throat.

"Very good, my daughter. This is a match to remember," he said. Lyova smiled to his words but was met with a blank facial expression.

"We have an appointment in a bit." Vadim pulled back his hand and turned around, walking towards the fireplace. Her mother followed shorthand and moments later, both vanished in the fireplace.

Lyova looked after them, a hint of disappointment flashing through her body. Somehow she'd thought they would react another way. Maybe if she'd won. Then he would have been genuinely proud, wouldn't he? But a tie? A tie is not a victory.

Lyova shook the feeling of and made her way to the great hall to get some food for a late lunch. Farkas and Orlov joined her halfway, and together they moved through the crowds of students that were still excited.

"Our best match so far," Orlov grinned, clapping Lyovas back.

"Yeah, try to top that when we're away," Farkas laughed. Lyova smirked at his comment.

"That's gonna be hard. We'll be two chasers, one beater and a captain down," Orlov sighed, holding three fingers in the air.

"But you get to keep Krum for another year," Lyova raised an eyebrow.

"Good that. I mean, Horvat is good. But he is no Krum," Orlov snickered.

"Don't let him hear that." Lyova aimed for their table and took a seat. Just as she was about to bite into a sandwich, the other Bulgarian players Krum had invited joined her table.

"I must say, I'm deeply impressed, Rasmussen," Vasily spoke up, pouring himself some pumpkin juice. He took a sip and immediately spat it back into the mug, frowning at the awkward beverage.

"Thank you, Dimitrov," Lyova replied, smiling a bit at his reaction.

"Vasily," he insisted, smiling back. "Vasily," she repeated, nodding.