𝓢𝓾𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮

VII

Flint chucked the Quaffle, but it was swiftly beaten away by the captain of the Gryffindor team, who was wearing a cocky grin. Angelina grabbed it swiftly, and flew towards the Slytherin hoops,

Going back to her captains side, Cassiopeia lambasted the older boy. "What was that? I was available, we could've scored!"

Rolling his eyes, Flint flew away, his eyes fixated on Katie Bell, who was cradling the Quaffle. Cassiopeia sighed, and two familiar ginger boys joined her side.

"Stubborn blighter, that one." Fred sighed.

"Our deepest condolences that he's your captain, Cass." George added.

"I appreciate it, boys. Good luck!" the Malfoy said quickly, flying towards her other Chaser. 

"She's not one for small talk, is she?"

"Oh, no, Fred. Not our Cass."

The two watch Cassiopeia as she flew away, signalling at Adrian Pucey.

"Pucey!" she called, managing to get neck and neck with him.

"What's up, Cass?"

"Where's the Quaffle?"

"Marcus has it."

"What? Again?"

"Beat Bell for it."

"I see. You try and get it off him, and get it to me, yeah? He isn't letting me score."

"Alright, give me a moment."

Adrian flew towards the team captain, and managed to get the Quaffle off him with little struggle. Cassiopeia sighed, these boys and their fragile egos. She hoped that her father would have a word with theirs.

"Cass!" snapping her out of her thoughts, the dirty blonde haired Pucey boy had chucked her the Quaffle, and she flew close to the ground before shooting upwards, leaving Oliver Wood no time to prepare.

"Cassiopeia scores again! Another ten points to Slytherin!"

⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧

170 - 110

The Gryffindors, unsurprisingly to Cassiopeia, had won. And Marcus Flint was, simply put, not overjoyed by their victory.

As the Gryffindors cheered, and their teammates lifted Harry Potter into the air in high spirits, Flint flew to the ground, tossed his broom to the side and stormed into the changing rooms. Miles Bletchley picked up his discarded broom and followed him in, where the rest of team stood amongst themselves, unsure of what to do.

After a moment, they all awkwardly followed him in. All, of course, apart from the blonde girl,

Good-natured as always, Cassiopeia joined the Gryffindors to congratulate Potter, who beamed up at the Slytherin girl as she approached.

"On behalf of my teammates, and my house, congratulations, Harry. You're an incredibly strong seeker." she smiled graciously.

"Thanks, Cassiopeia. You were great too, though. No one else could go as fast." he stated. Cassiopeia's eyes began to wander, and they focused on a tall man who had a long, silver ponytail - contrasting his velvet black robes.

"Well, I'd be lucky to have a team like yours. I best be off, my father is over there." Cassiopeia went to walk away, when she overheard George Weasley.

"Right twat, her dad, Harry. No idea how he got a daughter like her!" the ginger stated, causing his teammates to laugh in agreement.

Cassiopeia felt the urge to confront him, but that'd be the foolish thing to do. Instead, she bit her tongue and kept walking towards her dad.

"Father!" she greeted, giving him a small hug.

"Bad luck, Cassiopeia. Very well played on your part." he pat her back, and they pulled away from one another. They were near the teachers stands, where the school governors were invited to sit.

"Thank you. I'm afraid that my fellow Chaser - and team captain - Marcus Flint is not like the rest of us. He has no strategies other than barging through others, which never works in the end. He was awfully reluctant to let me score. I got most of the goals!" Cassiopeia lamented.

"Yes, I counted seven for you, three for the Pucey boy and only one for him. Maybe I should have a word with his Father, Harris Flint. The old boy has found himself in some hot water in the ministry, and is a very weak-willed man. I'll ensure your team serve you, dear."

"Perfect!"

Smiling deviously, Cassiopeia gave her father one last hug before turning to go to the changing rooms, waving behind her as she left.

Unbeknownst to her, the youngest Weasley son had just heard the scheming minds of the two Malfoys.

And unlike Slytherins, Gryffindors weren't exactly known for their strategy or tact.