Miss Slytherin

Book 3: Chapter 10

Finley felt safe, felt at home and comfortable, she felt absolutely calm in the arms of a possible stranger, but she doubts that it was a stranger. A hand brushed her hair soothing her, a pair of lips on the crown of her head calming her further. She couldn't hear anything else but a beating heart.

She felt new footsteps coming in her room, she was too drained to witness who they were. They were taking a rather large toll on her mind, too large that she feels herself slipping from everything she tried to desperately grab on to. Her eyes trained on to the grey shirt where her head had leaned on, his scent of mint and something sweet relaxed her thoroughly.

Blocking out the sounds, she felt herself drift back to sleep, and this time it felt like she was letting herself slip. Before she completely feel asleep she felt another kiss on her head, a hand on her waist holding her closer.

"I'm here."

"You hit like a fucking girl!" Flint yelled at the beater who still struggled to hit a bludger sent by himself.

Finley didn't like that comment from their captain that in retaliation she used her beater's bat to fly the bludger to Flint who barely manoeuvred away in time. "Hey!"

"Hit like a girl?" Finley feigned shock as a smirk played on her lips, she knows Flint admires her beater skills. He never stopped praising her that he was starting to act like Oliver Wood minus the disregard of basic flying safety.

"Hit him on the head next time!" She heard a voice say from behind, there she sees Cassius who gave her a grin. She liked Cassius Warrington even more than Marcus Flint, the captain is great and all but he was a bully most of the time.

She chuckled at his suggestion. "Surely it's your head he's aiming for once he hears you say that."

"Well—"

"LESS FLIRTING! MORE HITTING THE UGLY BALLS EVANS! GET BACK TO WORK!"

She was an inch closer to smacking Flint with her broom, just an inch an its depleting faster every time he yells at the team who were doing fine and were sweating bullets. Hopefully next year since he wasn't around anymore, Montague would be even more laid back than their old captain will ever be.

She sat herself on the grass panting, thighs hurting from all the flying, her beater's arm was aching, she was sweating bullets. Her neck was stiff, and it wasn't helping that they didn't have water ready for their consumption. She could transfigure something, but she was dumb to leave her wand in her room. Not entirely her fault, Flint was already wrecking chaos if she wasn't in the pitch in time.

She felt eyes on her, odd that it was, looking up she saw a large black dog, odd indeed as she felt familiar with it. She beckoned for it to come near her, holding out her hand motioning it nearer. "Come on boy," she calls.

To her luck, the dog approached her, she felt much more familiar with the dog than anything else in the world. She placed her hand on the dog's head petting it, she liked the dog and she also wondered whose dog he was.

"What's a dog doing here?" She looked behind her, dog now curled up beside her. She found Draco with two water bottles in hand looking down on the girl and the dog curiously.

"I don't know, he must be a stray," she says reaching for a water bottle from him, he gave her one and sat down beside her eyes still not leaving the dog.

"A bit ugly now is he? I couldn't imagine having a mutt like this at home—"

He fell back in surprise when the dog started growling at him, causing Finley to burst out laughing at Draco's surprised look. "You should say sorry before I let him go and and eat you," she laughed. Draco's pale face turned red in embarrassment, 'Stupid dog and his stupid growling, my father will—'