Slytherin has a new Team Captain and Gryffindors are on the rise as they scope out the competition. What will George do when he learns he has fallen for "the enemy?"
Warnings: none!
Word Count: 1.3 k
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"Have you heard?" Oliver huffed, taking a seat at the Gryffindor table. He had just returned from a Quidditch Hearing with Madame Hooch. As usual, he made his objections quite clear to the rest of his team.
Angelina scoffed, clearly unamused by his theatrics. "What is it now, Wood?"
"Slytherin. They've got a new Captain," he fumed. "It's a girl."
Gasps were heard as everyone huddled closer to their keeper. They were unsure if they had heard him correctly. Never before had Slytherin recruited a female member.
"The first girl on the team? She's got to be good!" Katie gasped, peering towards the emerald students seated across the room. She wasn't sure if she should be impressed or concerned.
"Oh, that's bollocks! She can't be any good," Fred scoffed, referring to Marcus Flint – their last captain and chaser – who had recently been kicked off the team. "They're only desperate."
"He's got a point, you know? She is a Slytherin. She's probably just as dirty a player as the rest of them," George added, rolling his eyes at the thought of the schemes you were surely cooking up.
"Actually, I hear she's going to give us a run for our money," Alicia warned, lowering her voice to a whisper. "You didn't hear this from me, but her mother plays for the Falmouth Falcons. She's been training all summer for an opportunity like this."
Just then, a student rose from the Slytherin table.
"That'd be her," Oliver groaned, glaring daggers your way. The rest of the team followed suit as they studied their newest opponent.
Only, you weren't all they made you out to be. Your smile was different than expected. It wasn't malicious or condescending – had no connection to some cunning scheme or dirty play. It caught George's attention immediately.
"Speak of the devil," Fred snickered, eyes following you like a predator watches its prey. He clearly held some grudges.
"You really think you can outsmart Gryffindor?" Fred mused, beckoning you over with a sly grin. You raised your eyebrow in a challenging manner but wore a smile that sent a different message.
"Well, is that not what a captain does?" you chuckled, completely unaware of the eyes that were on you.
George hadn't expected you to be so alluring. Not once had he pictured anyone from Slytherin to be anything but insufferable. You weren't arrogant or narcissistic like the others, but you knew your worth – and that was quite the admirable trait. He wondered what it would be like to have you on his team.
"We play on Friday, you know? You really think you're that good of a captain?" Fred dared, nudging George in his side.
He immediately jolted upwards, cradling his left rib while cursing under his breath.
"Well, considering you just injured one of your star players three days before our game, I'd say I've got pretty good odds," you shrugged.
Fred Weasley was astonished – eyes narrowed and mouth agape. He always had the final word.
"Looks like someone just got their arses handed to them," Angelina chuckled, followed by a chorus of giggles.
George laughed along with her, knowing that you were no ordinary Slytherin.
• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– •
You blew your whistle as you watched your teammates join you on the pitch once more. There was a warm, orange tinge to the sky, signalling that the dinner feast awaited all of your famished players. You could tell that this had been their first real practice in a long time.
Bidding them goodbye as they retreated to the locker room, you begrudgingly began to drag yourself back towards the castle. Unfortunately, there was no female chamber for the Slytherin team. Trekking through the field, you decided that it would be your first official request as captain.
You stopped skeptically in your tracks when ginger hair peaked out at you. Whichever Weasley it was, they were hiding behind the stands. If it was one of the twins, you did not intend on getting caught in their crossfires.
"If this is about earlier today, Weasley – I think you should know that I didn't mean to bruise your ego," you chuckled, coaxing them out of their hiding spot. To your surprise, it was the youngest of the twins who appeared to you.
He wasn't wearing his usual toothy grin. Rather, he looked a little embarrassed.
"Oh! Hey, George," you greeted, waving kindly to the boy. He immediately joined your side, engaging in conversation as he followed you down the path towards the courtyard.
"Did Oliver send you?" you scoffed, smirking at the thought of him sulking in his dorm room. "And you call us the dirty players."
"Nah, Oli didn't send me," George sniggered. "Although, I'm glad to hear that I won't have to worry about being injured at our next game."
"I'm sorry about them," you sighed, beginning to sweat once more beneath the sun. Your equipment was quite heavy, so you were grateful when George pretended to inspect your broom.
George admired the way you appeared from next to him. Your uniform was rather large, considering that you were likely given a boys' jersey. Your determination – it made you all the more attractive. Though, he wondered why you still wore your quidditch robes.
"There's no female locker room," you deadpanned, smiling meekly at the look George sent you.
"So, now that we've established that you do not work for die-hard-quidditch-fan, Oliver Wood, will you tell me what you are really doing here?"
You smirked at the look on George's face. Had he really thought he would get away with some sorry excuse?
"Well, if you must know, I am a star player. I do my research," he smirked, biting back a smile at the giggles you released. You saw right through him.
"So you are a spy!" you scowled, playfully shaking your head. "I'm not sure how much you've learnt from my beaters. How does someone manage to hit themselves with their own bat?" you laughed.
"Yeah, saw that one. Had to hold myself back from toppling over and blowing my cover," George chuckled.
The castle doors were in sight, but you took your time; no longer in a rush to join the bustling feast. You were content with the youngest Weasley twin. Happy, even.
"Hey, how'd you know it was me?" George wondered aloud, peering down to find that your cheeks had gone red. It caused his heart to race, though he kept his excitement to a minimum.
"Well, if you must know — you are slightly taller than Fred. And you've got a crooked smile," you blushed, hiding behind your hair as you looked down at your shoes.
You were quick to compose yourself, pretending as though the Whomping Willow across the courtyard had piqued your interest.
"You know, for a master prankster, you weren't hiding very well when I found you," you teased, thinking back to the end of your practice.
"Maybe I wanted to be found," George grinned, shrugging his shoulders as though it was no big deal.
"What do you mean?" you snorted, meeting his gentle gaze. He shied away immediately.
"It's just — I can't stop thinking about you," he stammered, shifting his weight from left to right. "It was funny — what you did to Fred this morning. I guess I was just hoping to see you again."
He was nervous, you could tell. His ears were a fierce red and his eyes remained low. He wasn't used to conversing with a Slytherin. You were the enemy, after all.
But in all fairness, it wasn't typical for you to enjoy a Gryffindor's company either. Maybe there was something special here; something worth trying.
"Tell you what," you smiled, stepping closer into his chest to retrieve your broom. His eyes bugged out and his cheeks burned red, causing you to chuckle.
"We don't have practice tomorrow," you began, fiddling with your fingers as you spoke. "Would you like to join me in the kitchens? Same time tomorrow?"
George's mouth hung open, his smile beaming from ear to ear. With a frantic nod, he happily joined you as you strolled towards your common room; excited for the days yet to come.
"Goodnight, Mr. Star Player," you smiled, waving goodbye as you entered the Slytherin chambers.
"See you tomorrow, love."