If she said she hated Malfoy, it was an understatement, in fact she despised the fool.
It was the morning practice with the Slytherins and they were met with Oliver Wood and the Gryffindors who also had plans to practice.
"We booked the pitch today Flint!" Oliver sneered, obviously annoyed that their practice time was interrupted.
"Not for long, you see I have a note from Snape to train our new Seeker and our reserve," Flint boasted giving the note that their head of house made earlier today.
"Who's your new seeker? A reserve?" Oliver asked confused.
Finley in the first place didn't want to go out from behind Pucey and Warrington who was holding her own Nimbus 2001. Almost refused to accept if from Malfoy, she didn't want anything from him or his money. But oh joy she was pushed out from the huddle to join Malfoy who was already cockily boasting his new position.
"Finley? I didn't know you could play—"
She shrugged, she honestly didn't plan on trying out next year as a reserve, she just wanted to get the offer of pardon from all suspensions. She was clever to take that offer and bail on the tryouts after, plus she only wanted to get out of detention. "I did it for the pardon."
"Pardon? That's not fair," Hermione gave her a disappointed look. A Slytherin her friend was but she never thought Finley would take up offers that were unjustly and selfish. But Finley was selfish, she always had been, she was human and selfishness was in her blood and her house, it was called self preservation and it wasn't her fault if they lack better term for it.
"Like the brooms Weasley? My father made a generous offer of buying everyone brooms," Malfoy grinned showing off the custom coloured black and silvery Nimbuses.
"It has nothing on the Nimbus 2000 that Potter has."
"He might not even afford half the handle," one Slytherin from the back had said. It upsets Finley that these boys were speaking ill of her ginger friend, she smacked Draco's head with her hand and glared at him.
"Don't be rude you twat!"
"Yes Malfoy, save it for the pitch," Flint agreed, as he only planned on taunting the Gryffindors to throw them off game and not get detention from a fight all together.
"At least no one had to buy their way in, they got in by pure talent," Hermione scowled at the blond boy. Finley wished that her best friend would just shut up for a moment really, but Draco had a sharp tongue.
"Yeah? Well what are you going to do about it? Mudblood!"
Furious she almost twisted Malfoy's arm to break and loose his chance in being seeker, but the problem was Ron and his taped wand. "Eat Slugs Malfoy—" the spell fired back.
"Ron!" She cried but she couldn't do anything. The quidditch team was already holding her back from aiding her friend as they laughed at the misfortune. The Gryffindors eventually left, with Ronald Weasley all green and sick as he puked out slugs.
Finley was livid towards Draco, that she almost strangled him with his own broom. "A fucking ferret faced toe-rag scum that's what you are!" She sneered at the blond boy.
Draco was many things, both horrible and good, but never in his life was he called a scum before. And no one did anything to stop the girl from cursing a whirlwind at him, much to Slytherins hating on half bloods and muggle borns, this Slytherin girl with them was a half blood princess what seemed to be. And a word from her was a thousand crucios to their whole being, she was the good in their house of bad, and if she turns hostile then what hope do the snakes have to be thought as good again?
Draco Malfoy felt the crucios before, and they were when she heard him call the muggle born Hermione Mudblood and hell he was when she hexed him every time she heard that word.
"I told you once last year to never call her that!" She yelled at Malfoy. She was stopped when she felt a hand on her shoulder and it was Flint of course, a surge of annoyance bubbled in her. This wouldn't have happened if she didn't accept that pardon.
"Like I said Evans, save it for the pitch."
And she did, the team didn't know what kind of player she was, sure as hell she wasn't up for seeker. He gave her exercises, from being a keeper, a Beater, and finally a chaser.
She never played the sport, she was positive that she would be useless on the pitch, but it was anger that called the shots. She was able to block Flint's scores with all her anger, she was able to knock off Montague from his broom with a bludger, but she wasn't able to vent her anger in throwing a quaffle in the rings but was able to violently throw the quaffle on Warrington's head in frustration.
She trained and that was it, she vented her anger and that was all she could do. The team was impressed that she had the ability of playing like a maniac at twelve, Malfoy was scared when injuries were inflicted. More frightened by the beater's bat being bent with the force she used.
"Am I done?" She snapped at Flint who was grinning from ear to ear. He was sure to convince her to tryout next year for his final game in quidditch, he wouldn't tell her that or he will surely lose her.
"Good job Sprite," he said patting her back. But her mood hasn't lifted one bit that after practice she ran towards Hagrid's hut where she expected the trio were. Thankfully they were there, Hermione's eyes were red and puffy, Ron just finished vomiting slugs. She knocked on the door with great urgency, still in her quidditch gear.
Opening the door Hagrid stood there, he was surprised to see her, but she didn't say hello and rushed in to hug her best friend. "I'm so sorry I couldn't do anything! " she cried.
"It's alright—"
"No it isn't! That prat won't have his testicles in place for calling you a horrible name!" She snapped. Instinctively the boys covered their regions as they paled. She was indeed upset, Draco was luck to not have her wand with her for the fear of snapping it during practice.
"You are wonderful Hermione! Don't you ever listen to that idiot," she assured as she held her best friend's cheeks together squishing them.
"Thanks Finn," Hermione could only muster.
"How was quidditch practice? You didn't tell us you could play?" Harry began, he was surprised that she could play.
Finley shrugged, it was no use in hiding it really. "I don't play really, they wanted to train me because I blocked a flying quaffle for that one time," she said.
"I bet you were brilliant."
"You can trash talk me Potter, I can't play until next year," she said crossing her arms to her chest. She was at least an inch taller than Harry at this point.
Observing her stance, her quidditch gear was loose on her petite body, her hair in a tight ponytail that still fell into curls. She had beads of sweat on her fore head and she was flushed.
"Can't wait to see what you're playing as," Harry mused.
That evening they went back to the castle just before dinner so Finley could shower, Finley was bombarded by her two best friends who were excited to know that she decided to play.
"I heard Flint wanted you to be a beater!" Theo mused.
"I think you would rock as a beater!"
"I think I would smack you both with a beater's bat if you don't let me shower," she snapped at them feeling the exhaustion of training on her shoulders.
"How did training actually go? I heard you almost beaten Malfoy up."
Rolling her eyes as she arrived in her room boys followed behind her, she gave them both sarcastic smiles. "I'll tell you all about it later," she said closing the door in front of them. She loved her friends to bits but it doesn't mean that she wasn't always out to kill them.
She took of her quidditch cleats and the old training jerseys and finally had her shower. Not bothering to wear her uniform to the meal, she took out a pair of leggings and a Slytherin sweater that was formerly Blaise's but he didn't need to know that.
Slipping on a pair of white trainers, hair still damp but placed into a messy bun with a few on her short hairs falling on the sides of her face. She took her wand and walked out her room.
"Took you long enough," Theo said who was with Blaise on the couch waiting for her to come out.
"You both didn't have to wait up," she said rolling her eyes. Placing her arms around both boys' waists and their arms on her shoulders, they ventured towards the great hall. And hopefully it was to lift up her mood, especially when they can hear Parkinson's wails of pain from the other side of the castle.
"How Slytherin of you," Blaise mused.
Finley only let out a grin, yes it was very Slytherin of her.