❝HOW COME YOU NEVER TRIED FOR SEEKER?❞
❝I ENJOYED AIMING BLUDGERS AT YOU TOO MUCH.❞
The Gryffindor Quidditch Team finally has some real competition. And Harry Potter is totally conflicted.
warning: this book has many mature, NSFW scenes that contrib...
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INDIANA WAS AWFULLY used to enjoying what she saw in the mirror. Having a low self-esteem was never something she had struggled with, and in all honesty, as a kid her mother had made sure her daughter knew how beautiful she truly was. Indiana supposed that when Death swept away her mother, he took that high self-esteem as well. Because Indiana felt like shattering the mirror in front of her.
It was not her natural features that bothered her (for she knew it was useless to fret about something she didn't have the power to change), but rather the newest additions to the collection of memories that littered the lines and divots of entire being. Between the scar she had on the left side of her nose from a Quidditch accident, to the entirety of her left arm that seemed to be so damaged she had covered it in bandages, she truly just felt upset with what she saw. Perhaps, if she had made different choices, things could have been different.
Indiana was nervous. Incredibly nervous, really, and although it was mostly because she had to play Seeker in replace of Theodore Nott (who was visiting his father in Azkaban), it was also because she knew her father would be in attendance. She had the sub-Beater, Adrian Pucey, playing in her old position, only because she knew she was a better Seeker than anyone on the team, but she knew she'd have to work twice as hard to impress her father if she was playing as Seeker.
As she walked out onto the pitch, making sure to always be a few steps in front of her team like her father always told her, she felt more anxious than ever. The weather conditions were flawless, but they didn't ease her worries at all, nor did Draco's enthusiastic remarks and nor did Blaise's quiet reassurance.
The Gryffindors had already been out on the sunny field, and the booming rasp of the cheers from the crowd felt like white noise as Potter turned around to spot the Slytherins walking out. The small breeze fanned across her face and swished her ponytail side to side a bit as she strutted out front, but even the glowing sun spreading along her cheeks could not heal the flipping in her stomach she got when she locked eyes with the Gryffindor captain.
He was probably the best Seeker Gryffindor had ever seen before. He caught the Snitch every game (with the exception of the one where dementors had made a guest appearance), and rode a Firebolt, which was faster than any other player on his team. It only made sense that Indiana flew on a Firebolt as well, because by the end of the game, they'd be able to find out who was the better flier. And Indiana, for once in her ever-so-egotistical life, worried she might not come out on top.
"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," Madam Hooch said, yellow eyes glinting, once they were all gathered around her. Indiana could tell that she seemed to be speaking particularly to her. "Captains — shake hands."
Indiana's heart skipped, but she didn't allow a single bit of her face to change when she extended a hand. Potter's hand met hers in a firm grip, and she wondered if Madam Hooch or the others players had noticed the way their handshake had lasted a bit longer than necessary, their fingertips lingering against one another's before their hands dropped to their sides.
