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"GOOD EVENING HOGWARTS!" boomed Jason Greyjug, his voice echoing across the Hogwarts Quidditch grounds.
"It's 9 in the morning—" said Professor McGonagall from his side, but he paid no attention.
"Welcome to the 1977 Hogwarts Quidditch Final! Today, it's Slytherin versus Ravenclaaaaww!"
Rune would have joined in on the excited cheering had her eyes not been focused on Regulus who was hanging a few centimeters away from her shamelessly flirting with another girl in their year, Lila Score.
He was so close to her that she could hear what he was saying. It made her sick.
Regulus' eyes flitted to hers and she immediately diverted her gaze to the grounds. Stupid Regulus. Stupid feelings.
When a few seconds passed, she turned her gaze back to him and immediately regretted it when she found him already looking at her.
All she managed to do was muster up a dirty look before he tilted his head at her and swiveled to fly away.
"Now for a terrible joke that Fabian Prewett wants me to share with all of you. What do you call a sick quaffle? And the balls are released, and the players are off! Slytherin chaser, Alastair Travers in possession! I heard from secret societies around Hogwarts that his girlfriend cheated on him. We'll forgive you for bad play, pal—AHHHH!"
Both Jason Greyjug and Professor McGonagall had to duck as a Quaffle went flying right at them.
"Foul play for the starters," shouted Jason as he steadied himself. "As expected from the Green's. If anyone wants to know the answer to the joke, it's a cough-le."
Despite herself, Rune laughed at the joke.
"Can I sit here?" asked Rabastan, and before she could answer, he pushed himself into the seat.
"Why are you late?"
He pointed at the Ravenclaw stands and Rune looked until she spotted Tina weaving her way through the stands in a desperate attempt to reach her friends. Rune sighed as she smiled and said, "Hmm, I see."
Rabastan dug into his coat for snacks and pulled out a plastic packet brimming with popcorn. "Who's playing better?"
"Ravenclaw," answered Rune just as Mason went whizzing past them and scored.
"How's he playing?"
Rune looked up to precisely where Regulus hung in the air and searching for the fluttering wings of the snitch. He surveyed the surroundings panoramically and as always, his eyes locked with Rune's.
He might have continued staring had the Ravenclaw seeker not just tumbled before him grabbing for that streak of gold that only narrowly escaped his fingers.
"Maybe if Regulus Black spent less time admiring the lovely lady on the Slytherin stands, he'd have seen the snitch that went right past his eyes. But it seems Rowena Ravenclaw's light is shining through, and he thankfully missed it. We're all rooting for Ravenclaw to win."
"Greyjug!" warned Professor McGonagall. "We do not put our personal feelings into commentary!"
"If I didn't put my personal feelings into it, Professor, there would be no purpose for commentary at all. I'd just be saying what everyone is already seeing." He dropped his voice by a pitch and added on, "Ravenclaw better score 10 goals because I bet 20 galleons on each one. I'm talking to you Bones and Zahava Fawley-who dumped my boy Jermaine yesterday. And yes, Rowan, we all saw your broomstick jerk. And I am talking about the one outside your pants."
Jason Greyjug had to duck yet again as another Quaffle went flying towards the stands. Before he could regain his seating, he yelled, "BOLLOCKS! Evan Rosier sent a nasty Bludger towards Bones! Something had to have broken- Oh dear, is that blood in sight? Players, take five."
Rune winced as Mason clutched his arm as he was tended to. He seemed to be engaging in a rather heated argument with Flitwick and his teammates.
As he remounted his broomstick, she saw their disapproving gazes, but before they could stop him, he kicked off once again.
"Against better judgement, Bones has decided to continue playing. If anyone catches a broken arm, it's Bones. Look at it hanging on by one miniscule fiber."
"Greyjug!" hissed McGonagall.
"Annnnd play is back in action! Ravenclaw leads by 10 points. Your donations after the last match helped us purchase not one, not two, not three, but four bottles of deodorant for Filch. An anonymous source said it got him a date at the Leaky Cauldron sometime next month. Now onto our next project, a truly heartfelt letter from a Prongs has asked us to start collecting towards buying shampoo for sixth year Slytherin student, Severus Snape. Your donations can save a hairstyle! Donate generously! AND THAT'S A GOAL FROM THE SLYTHERIN'S! Dang it!"
As the match unfolded, due to Ravenclaw's star player in his state of distress and pain, the gap between the Slytherin's and Ravenclaw's grew in favor of the Slytherin's. Chants of victory were already being sung and the intense arrogance of the team showed above all else.
A chorused gasp rang through the crowds as the Slytherin beater duo slammed right into Mason's broken arm to get the Quaffle out of his hold and into Slytherin territory.
"Dare I even comment on that torture?!" bellowed Jason. "Foul play! Slytherin lead by 140 unjust points! Ravenclaw needs to catch the snitch before another goal can be scored—Oh no, Regulus Black is diving! He's going! He's going! He's going! YESSSS! The snitch is knocked away by Fawley. And Ravenclaw requests a break again!"
As the Ravenclaw team hustled together, Regulus flew back to Lila Score. Rune watched them from the corner of her eyes and clenched her fists when he gave her a wretched smile.
Again. He was handing it out again.
"Back into positions everyone!" shouted Greyjug.
Rune knew Regulus glanced at her before he flew off, but she kept her eyes focused ahead. Once she actually paid attention to what was in front of her, her eyes lit up.
Mason hung mid-air in front of her, rolling his shoulders and gripping onto his broomstick clearly in pain.
"Bones!" she hissed, trying to catch his attention. "Bones! Mason Bones!"
He turned to her, and she saw the frown etched between his brows. He was in deep pain. "What?"
"Do you want to win?"
"Obviously," he gritted. "But we're already out."
"No, you're not! You have one more chance. How good is your seeker?"
"He's good," nodded Mason.
Rune bit down on her lip and then held out her hand. "Give me your jersey."
"What?" he questioned in confusion.
"If you want to win, give me your jersey."
"You can have it after I wash it. It's probably filthy—"
"Mason!" she said, shaking her hand. "Give it to me."
Though it appeared as though he was in immense pain, through his string of curses and grunts of pain, he freed himself from the jersey and tossed it at her.
As she pulled it over her head, she prayed that he wasn't a profound sweater. But despite the slight smell of grass, she could smell the fabric powder and citrus lotion and she decided it was okay.
"Off you go!" boomed Greyjug and in an instant, Mason was soaring off.
When Rune turned back to Rabastan, he grinned at her. "Brilliant idea."
As she opened her mouth to answer, he added on, "Except for the part where you're costing us the House Cup, but we still have sixth and seventh year for that."
"It seems Regulus Black has his eyes on the snitch because his attention is caught!" commented Greyjug. "Slytherin's raise your hand if the snitch is near you."
Rune dropped in her seat and immediately settled her attention onto Regulus.
Exactly as she knew, he was staring at her intently.
She made sure to stare back and she saw his gaze run down her body to the Ravenclaw Quidditch jersey. When he lifted his eyes back to hers, she saw the difference.
He was livid.
Regulus called it a game.
Maybe he was right. Maybe it was.
But it seemed to have slipped his mind that games were never perfect because the players weren't perfect.
And whether he had wanted to or not, she felt something with him.
If she was being delusional, that was her own problem and she'd deal with it in her own accord. However, something in the back of her mind told her that she was right.
She knew he didn't love her; she wasn't sure that he even liked her.
But she knew he felt something.
She was not going to let him pretend that he didn't.
If she had to pull it out of him herself, she would.
"A MIRACLE BEFORE OUR EYES! Hermanus Bagnold has captured the snitch! Ravenclaw wins the match by 10 points! THE QUIDDITCH CUP GOES TO RAVENCLAAAW!"