Quidditch information (RATHER IMPORTANT): A team has 3 Chasers, 2 Beaters, a Keeper and a Seeker. 3 different balls: Snitch (small and gold, moves, worth 150 points), 2 Bludgers (flying, aggressive things, being hit around by the Beaters who are allowed to legally aim for other players) and a Quaffle (red, unmoving thing, used by Chasers to score goals). Keepers guard the goal, which exists of three rings. Believe I covered it all now, basically. Oh, and the game ends when the Snitch is caught!
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Rough game, Quidditch
"Oi, Tomlinson! Ready to lose this Saturday?" a deep, annoying voice called.
A voice Louis recognized in an instant. He sighed deeply before turning around. "What was that?"
"I asked if you were ready to lose this Saturday. Slytherin versus Gryffindor." Wild, curly hair and green eyes came into view. Harry Styles. Team captain and Beater of the Slytherin Quidditch team.
"You wish", Louis replied calmly. He was not going to lose his temper with the younger boy today. Harry would only make fun of him even more.
"Ah yes, I wish indeed. But tell me, what is it with those Weasleys? There are about, what, four in your team?" Harry said, cocking his head to the side. Louis breathed deeply through his nose. He knew Slytherin House did not like the Weasley family, but they were all nice to Louis. "And I don't think they bought their way into the team." Harry snorted loudly at his own joke.
Louis scoffed. "I'm not having this conversation with you, Styles." He turned around and started walking away.
"It must be pity, then." Louis froze. He despised the word pity. Maybe because he had gotten plenty of it to last a lifetime. Or maybe because Harry and his companions taunted Louis with the word. Or just a combination of both. "Ah, pity it is then. It can't be pity because they lost their family, like Potter... Maybe because they don't have money? Yeah, that must be it." Louis knew Harry was trying to lure him out of his shell, trying to get him angry enough to start a fight.
And to be honest, he was close to it. Just a few steps away from the edge.
"I suggest you shut up about the Weasleys. Money isn't everything, being friendly is."
"And why are you on the team, Tomlinson?", Harry continued, completely ignoring Louis's reply. "Do you not have money? Maybe you have no family. I mean, who would want to be related to you?" A non-verbal curse hit Harry straight in his chest as Louis aimed his wand at him, eyes spitting fire. Harry went flying backwards and smacked against the statue of the one-eyed witch.
"Don't you ever say that again", Louis spat. Harry, despite his current condition (lying on the floor and bleeding from his arm), smiled deviously.
"Was it true then? No one wants to be related to you?" He laughed manically. "I'm not even surprised, Tomlinson." Just as Louis was about to fire a verbal (and therefore more powerful) curse at the younger boy, a hand swatted his wand away.
"Don't. He's not worth it", a voice whispered in Louis's ear. Louis's hands curled into fists and he went for Harry's face. That smirk had to be wiped off his face, by magic or the Muggle way; Louis didn't care anymore.
His vision went red, a very angry red as he stormed towards the curly-haired boy. The emerald green eyes went wide but an arm gripped around Louis's waist. "No, Louis. He's not worth it."
"He said-" Louis struggled to break free from the person's grip. "He said that no one could-" He took a deep breath. "No one would ever want to be related to me." A tear rolled down his cheek and the person's grip tightened on Louis's waist.
