| TOUJOURS PUR |

Chapter 11: Part 2

Forgot to update this with the rest, again!

Avior watches his first quidditch match, the Christmas holidays start and he attends a ball.

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Early November 1943

" And Burke dives for the quaffle, racing around the flustered Gryffindor Chasers who fumbled it. And what a catch he's made, skimming close to the floor but pulling up at the last moment. He passes it to Avery, who's now speeding to the hoops! He shoots! He scores! 100:70 to Slytherin!" The commentator shouted, causing the Slytherin stands to roar in approval, watching as their chaser flew loops in a short celebration. The whole house it seemed had turned out for the match against Gryffindor, their long time rivals, eager to see them beaten in a sport they prided themselves the champions in for having won it multiple years in a row.

Avior cheered alongside his fellow Slytherin's, but all of his attention was on their Seeker, Flint, who was circling the pitch, eyes darting about frantically in search of the snitch. He looped around almost lazily, but his sharp gaze gave away his true focus on his task. The Gryffindor Seeker didn't pay him much mind, thinking that he wasn't paying any attention. Avior thought Flint's tactic was a brilliant one, if ineffective after a few games.

Suddenly, his broom jerked into action, a far cry from its previous sedate pace, rushing abruptly towards the ground.

Flint had spotted the snitch.

Exhilaration filled him as he watched Flint dive for the snitch at top speeds, followed closely by the Gryffindor seeker who had spotted his descent and decided to shadow him. The two raced, neck and neck at some points as they grew closer to the ground, dangerously so. In the background, another goal was scored by Slytherin, but the stands were fixated on the Seeker's, anticipation palpable.

Avior began to worry as the pair showed no signs of slowing until he saw the smirk on the Slytherin seeker's face. He sharply pulled up, narrowly avoiding a collision with the ground, unlike the Gryffindor who hit it with an ominous thud.

Flint then snapped out his hand, catching the fleeing snitch in it, smiling with satisfaction. Silence deafened the stadium for a few moments until the announcement from the commentator broke it.

" And Flint, seeker to the Slytherin team, has caught the snitch! 260:70 to Slytherin!"

The crowd went wild.

Some Gryffindor's rushed down to the pitch to check on their slowly awakening seeker, aiming harsh glares at Flint who was now on the shoulders of his fellow players. He only laughed them off, being carried off to the Slytherin common room so that the whole house could celebrate their first Quidditch win of the year.

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Unlike what most would think, Slytherin celebrations were by far the wildest, filled with children, teenagers and young adults who have to act with the utmost poise every day, all day. It was a time for them to let loose without the expectations of their families hanging over their heads.

"We like to drink with Richard cause Richard is our mate, and when we drink with Richard he gets it down in 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1."

Avior watched on, amused, as a bunch of fifth years played a drinking game, Riddle hovering around them with a scowl, but not stopping them. He chuckled a bit as the one named Richard stumbled, nearly colliding with the ire-filled Prefect, whose glower deepened to a near thunderous level as he watched the boy fall to the floor into a heap.