I wasn’t really expecting an ambush; I mean, who really expects ambushes, apart from paranoid people? In this day and society you have the right to walk down a good ol’ corridor without being knocked over, yeah? You can just stroll right down there, perhaps even add a little skip. A hop. An athletic handstand.
Do whatever, be wild. Cartwheel. It’s a free country, y’know.
I wasn’t even cartwheeling. I was simply walking. Humming a pleasant little tune to myself whilst idly wondering what I was going to have for lunch when BAM. I was knocked over and dragged into a helpfully free nearby passage.
Wow, what a coincidence; a free passageway that is dimly lit and simply gives so much spookiness that you feel scared just looking at it. How fortunate that it was there..
Creepy stalker dude, was surprisingly, Hamish McLaggen. He didn’t even bother to wear one of those balaclavas! He just rolled right up and abducted me!
Psh. Youngsters these days.
Anyway, there we were; me leaning against the wall whilst McLaggen kept a tight grip on my arm to stop me from getting away. The spooky passage was - er – spooky, and my lovely ambusher was strangely calm.
“Hi?” I squeaked, staring at him in bewilderment. Hey now, give me some credit! It’s not everyday that you get ambushed!
Oh, it is for you? Well then, you must lead a very interesting life. I applaud you. Have a biscuit.
Moving on, I’ll go back to the scene.
“Alright, Asteria?” McLaggen said, in an oddly nonchalant way.
I pursed my lips, glancing meaningfully at the rather tight grip he was keeping on my forearm.
“Oh, er, right.” he said, releasing me, before placing a hand on my shoulder.
“What exactly d’you want?” I asked, still slightly bewildered.
“How’s Quidditch practise going?” he enquired, ignoring my question completely.
“Er- it’s good,” I said, still confused. “Oak is a bit of a maniac, but it’s going-”
“I want my place back.”
“Excuse me?” I said, completely taken aback. “You what?”
“I said,” McLaggen rolled his eyes. “I want my place back.”
“On the Quidditch team?”
One curt nod.
“Can I politely enquire why?”
His icy blue eyes burned, a feverish glacier of anger.
“I was supposed to be seeker. You cheated.”
Now it’s my turn to take a quick sardonic glance at the ceiling.
“Hamish,” I sighed. “I didn’t cheat. You dudes were just chasing after a... a fleck of sunlight or whatnot. I saw the snitch and caught it.”
Hamish shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I was definitely chasing after a snitch. I saw it with my own eyes, the rest of the guys saw it with their own eyes.”
I frowned. “Well, I definitely saw a snitch too. So, one of us has to be wrong, or maybe-”
“There was another snitch,” he finished for me, a small grin lighting his face. “Another snitch that someone else planted.”
I nodded enthusiastically, and returned the smile. “Yeah, that must’ve been it.”
“How the hell did you manage that? Did you get one of your friends to help or something?”
There was a small pause of silence, whilst we stared each other out. The hate was back in his eyes.
“No,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Hamish, I did not cheat. How many times do I have to say that to get you to believe me? Why can you not just accept that I am free of guilt for this?”
“Because that place was mine, and you stole it. This happened to my Father and I won’t let it happen to me. You’re just a clumsy bitch with a brain smaller than a pea that sometimes finds herself quite funny. How the hell can you be a seeker?”
He’d hit a nerve, and he was right; I wasn’t particularly clever- my grades show it- and I hadn’t even wanted to be on the team, let alone be a seeker! And my catching the snitch didn’t even take any skill, I just flew up to it and caught it, just like that. But Hamish was out of line, and I refused to lie down and take it.
“If you have a problem,” I said, jaw clenched, “Then go and talk to Oak, not me. I don’t care what you say; I caught that snitch and I did not cheat, so stop making ridiculous accusations and crawl back to where you came from, okay?”
With that I wrenched myself out of his grip and stormed out of the spooky passageway, fully determined to get myself to lunch where a nice hot cup of coffee was waiting for me.
By the next morning I’m fully regretting my outburst at Hamish. Why? Because it’s 5.15 AM and I’m being yelled at by a Scottish tyrant who’s trying to make me hurtle to my death. On purpose.
“Look,” says Wood, gliding up to where I’m clutching onto my broomstick for dear life. “All you have to do is trust your broom; steer the handle downwards, hold it there and just when it starts shaking, pull up.”
I glare unconvincingly in his direction through the cloud that we are hanging out in. If by hanging out you mean flying up here countless amounts of time before falling straight back down again.
“Bre, don’t give me that look.” growls Wood poking my shoulder, (which is dangerous considering he’s too strong for his own good and my clutch on my broom is gradually getting weaker) “Don’t think about it, just fly.”
“As nice as that sounds, Wood,” I mutter angrily through numb lips, “I think I’ll just stay here for a while.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it.” Grins Wood, before grabbing the tail of my broom and tipping it vertically up. Effectively forcing me to slip right to the end of the handle and accelerate to get out of his grip.
Which then leaves me hurtling towards the ground. Joy.
All right, I think to myself, wait until the broom shakes and then pull up. Can’t be that hard, right?
I’m out of the clouds now, and the ground is getting closer pretty damn quickly.
“Shake,” I murmur at the broom, “Shake, dammit!”
But my broom remains frustratingly still as the ground comes up to meet me.
“SHIIIIIIIT!” I scream, and pull up the broom seconds before crash landing with the earth. Then, suddenly, I’m soaring again. The wind whistles in my ears as tears sting my eyes from the sheer speed of my flight. I can hear Wood yelling at me, but I don’t care; this feeling is phenomenal- better than any feeling I’ve ever felt.
I’m concentrating so fully on this happy buzz that I don’t notice the flashes of red in my peripheral vision, and when I do it’s too late. I’m knocked off my broom roughly by someone and tumble to the floor, hitting my head nicely on the way down. My vision swims, a cloud of blue and grey and green that makes me dizzy. Or is it just my head?
I’m just pondering that interesting point when I black out, happy to embrace the silence the darkness brings.
Hours later-or is it minutes?- I’m shaken awake by frantic hands.
“Asteria?” the owner of the hands asks, “Asteria, you need to wake up!”
No, goway, I sleepy.
“Bre! Open your fucking eyes will you?”
Oh, My confused mind thinks, Wood’s here.
“Shit, is she dead?!”
And there’s Colin. My mind chuckles to itself.
“Colin, don’t be stupid- she’s just knocked out. Grow a brain.”
“Yeah, well you need to grow a pair of other things, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”
Good ol’ Jassa.
“Why doesn’t everyone just move out of the way and give her some air. You heard me- move!”
My eyes flicker open and focus, only to be met with a pair of worried hazel irises which are a bit too close to my face. Irises that belong to one James Potter.
“Agh!” I sit up abruptly, before being pushed down again by Jassa, who’s kneeling by my head.
“My head hurts,” I whine, pouting. “Why does my head hurt?”
“You got pushed off your broom.” says Wood bitterly.
“By whom?” I ask, screwing my face up against the sunlight that’s filtering through the clouds.
“McLaggen,” scowls James, “He was hiding in the stands and flew up beside you after that Wronksi Feint you just pulled-“
“Which was brilliant.” Wood grins.
“He disappeared straight after, but we’re going to find him later.” promises Scorpius.
“Okey-dokey,” I smile half heartedly, “Can I please get up?”
“Sure.” says Jassa, grabbing my arms and pulling me up clumsily. I wobble unsteadily for a minute, but stay upright.
“We better get you to the Hospital Wing.” says Wood.
“Nah, I’m fine- I’ll just go sleep for awhile.” I turn to Jassa, “Can you tell my teachers where I am?”
She nods. “You sure, Teri?”
“It’s either sleeping, lessons, or Madam Pomfrey, Jas- it’s not exactly a hard choice.”
They all agree, and Jassa helps me up to our Dorm where I fall onto my bed and don’t wake up until that evening.
With a very sore head. Yay.
I’m awoken the next morning by a muffled thump and a whispered profanity. Sitting up slightly, I peer around the gloom just in time to see a shape loom towards me. McLaggen.
I’m just about to scream when the figure places it’s hand over my mouth and sits itself down on my bed. It lights it’s wand and then I see the familiar face of Scorpius. Not a scary, Quidditch obsessed boy.
Actually, scary and Quidditch obsessed does fit Scorpius, but that’s beside the point.
“I was sent by Wood to tell you that you don’t have to do practise today,” he says, shaking his head disbelievingly. “Personally, I think he’s going soft; Al once broke his collarbone and his wrist and was made to play the very next day. We had to kidnap him from the Hospital Wing.”
I chuckle softly. “Poor Al, must have been painful.”
“Yeah,” he grins along with me. “And also- me, James, Oak and Albus are going to find McLaggen after Practise. Hopefully that’ll scare him off.”
“Thank you.” I whisper softly, really meaning it. They don’t have to do this for me.
“Alright then, bye,” Scorpius says, “I’ve got to get to practise, or Oak will make me do something mad like Goal Post loop-the-loops.” He grins, before leaning over an giving me a small hug that is sweet albeit slightly awkward.
“Bye.” I murmur, before snuggling down in my blankets for a nice long three-hour shuteye.
I can only wonder what tomorrow will bring.
I AM SO INSANELY SORRY.
*hides* I know last chap I was all like ‘I’ll update soon! One week tops!’. And here we are, months later. BUT there is a good reason!
; I’ve started on a new story which is why this update has taken so long. Spinning Top will now be put on a brief hold until the first or second chapter of the new story is up. If you find this utterly preposterous and feel a need to vent your anger, you can find me on formspring under the name of MarsIsBright... http://www.formspring.me/MarsIsBright
There you can yell at me, ask for previews for stories, have a chat, or you can not come find me at all. You probably really don’t care. Whatever ^_^
Oh, and please do check out the story when it comes out. It’s next gen and called ‘A Matter of Interest.’
Cool? We cool? Right then. *ninja exit*
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