AN: Late as always, but enjoy! (:
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Here We Go Again
Chapter 11: Need of Competition
POV: Al
"—Why are we doing this?"
"—Why aren't we doing this?"
"The question here, lads, is why haven't we attempted to do this sooner?" Grinning widely from where he leaned against a corridor wall, a glitter of I-am-holier-than-thou attitude in his eyes, James Potter crossed his arms over his chest. A chest baring the Gryffindor Quidditch-team uniform.
I frowned at his leering attitude. "Don't go feeling mighty in that, James, you'll soon be taking it off and tossing it back in that dusty rucksack where you found out." Which was, ironically, the dusty rucksack I was trying to pull out tangled padding for the knees and shoulders. "Not to mention that jersey on that says Oliver Wood. You're not even on the team."
James scoffed. "Please," he snorted. He picked a thread of lint off his borrowed uniform. "All you other dimwits might be trying out for teams, but I know I'll be granted a spot. The captain has seen my skills, he'll hand me the Seeker's position with a gift-wrapped snitch."
Before I could even knock my brother down a peg, because his Seeker skills were not impressive at all and there was no way he had improved in the last seventeen years of his life, Louis leaped off from the ground. He was already all geared up with the Gryffindor uniform, all the padding making his bulked body appear broader. "I don't know about you, mates," he began, "but I look damn freaking handsome. I'm going to break hearts just walking out to the pitch."
"Enjoy this moment, Louis, it'll be the only time you wear that uniform again." Also in his Gryffindor Quidditch-gear, Freddie smirked up at Louis from his place next to me on the floor. "Or if we ever decide to go trick-o-treating with the muggles again."
"What's that supposed to mean?" My blonde cousin frowned at the redhead one.
Freddie shrugged. "I'm just stating facts here, Louis. I've got Dad's Beater's build, and wicked genetics to swing a bat around with some mighty power that I could send a bludger to the Queen of England without any effort. Not to mention that Al and James have their parents amazing and dedicated passion for the sport that it literally swims in their blood. We've just got more of an advantage than you do."
Louis took a menacing step towards Freddie, his shadow making the ground the latter was sitting on dim as it darken his face. "And what the bloody hell do I have then?"
"A pregnant sister, Veela blood, a phony French accent, and the failed shot at being Head Boy—"
"Protego!"
An immediate clear bubble formed around Freddie, wrapping around him completely; making Louis stumble back a few steps before his fist could collide with the side of the other boy's head.
"What's you're problem?! Remove the bloody charm! Let him taking a beating like a fu—"
"Silencio!" Shutting Louis before he could even say something vulgar for her too proper and mature ears, Rose stepped further into the corridor with her loyal boyfriend by her side and two other Gryffindor witches; Emily and Lily. And as Malfoy smirked wildly at everyone, Rose frowned profoundly.
"Honestly, Louis," she began with her constant scoldings, "your potty-mouth is terrible. I'd like Aunt Fleur and Gran to hear you speak like this, especially since you're all polite and a tea-drinker around them."
The blonde Gryffindor glared more intensely, especially when Freddie started laughing mockingly from his protective bubble and Lily chorused in with her giggles of evil.
Rolling his eyes as Louis throw an effortless punch at the bubble, Malfoy turned his attention to me as his girlfriend proceeded to try and fix the current family dispute. "Why haven't you changed, Potter? If we want to impress that idiot of a captain, we need to get there on time."
I cursed when he aimed a kick to my knee as I remained seated on the floor.
"Poor lads," James chuckled dramatically, giving Malfoy and I a pitying gaze as he threw an arm over his girlfriend's shoulder. "Why don't you leave the game for people who actually know how to play and aren't relying on being punctual to get into the team."
Ever the one to put my idiot brother in his place, Emily pinched her boyfriend's arm and scowled at him in the way Rose had earlier to our cousins. "Be nice, James. Al and Scorpius are very talented players, and you know that. They beat you and Freddie several times last summer."
"That did not happen!" My brother snapped as soon as Malfoy and I smirked grandly.
"Oh, but it did," Malfoy said darkly. "I won twenty-eight galleons from both you and Weasley, and you spent the entire summer polishing Al's shoes with your toothbrush. Admit it, Potter, we're better players than you. Slytherin is going to end up winning the Quidditch cup this year, and you and the redheaded weasel will end up losing the bet you made against those Ravenclaws."
James turned red. "Fuck off, Malfoy! You can suck—"
WHAM!
"Oi! What was that for?!" It was a cry of pain, and it had erupted from both James and Freddie at the same time. The redhead stood without a bubble of protection anymore, clutching his nose tightly with both hands, and the other one was rubbing the back of his head furiously.
"You're supposed to be protecting me, Rose!" Freddie shouted through his hand. "What's the use of being Hermione Granger's daughter if you can't hold a spell?!"
Rose glared in an almighty, I'm-judging-you fashion and just snorted at his shout. It was her lethal response of 'fuck off'.
As such, Freddie turned around to our blonde cousin and kicked him on the knee. "I'm telling on you, you twat! That's the second time you break my nose this month!"
Before Louis could respond to that, Emily's twinkle-like voice sounded thoroughly annoyed as my little sister smirked brightly at her. "Quit being an asshole to your brother and my best friend, James. It's just a sport, and all of you are trying out for two different teams." She crossed her arms over her chest and the glitter to her green eyes appeared to be parental now. "And what bet did you make with the Ravenclaws? I've been hearing about this for days now. What did you three get yourselves into?"
Forgetting for a moment that they were having troubles in paradise in their relationship, Louis and Freddie both glanced a worrisome look at one another before casting a firm one at my brother. "Don't say anything—"
"If Gryffindor doesn't beat Ravenclaw this year for the Qudditch House Cup, then Freddie, Louis and I have to streak through the crowd on closing ceremonies for this school year."
Freddie and Louis groaned loudly at James' quick answer to his girlfriend's question.
On the other hand, Malfoy looked thoroughly amused and ready to throw mocking comments; Lily looked disgusted at the idea; I started laughing; and Rose and Emily both looked more upset than they had been previously.
Realizing the mistake he made for being so witch-whipped, James' eyes opened wide for a moment before transforming his expression into a calm one. "Not to worry, though. Freds and I are going to be in the team this year; those Ravenclaws don't stand a chance."
"Are you three insane?!" Rose was not pleased. "It's cost all of you so much effort to get to your Seventh Year without getting expelled and you're willing to risk that on the final week that you graduate?! Are you bloody daft?!"
Lily giggled at the corner. "Oh, now you know she's upset; she cursed. Expect her to write to your mothers."
And right as the three Seventh Year Gryffindors looked scared at that prospect, Rose forgot about them for a moment when she turned to her blonde boyfriend. "And you!" She pointed an accusing finger at him. "What's the reason you and Al are joining the Quidditch team this year then? Why all of a sudden, after years, is Quidditch so important?"
Malfoy, another so viciously witch-whipped, almost cowered into a corner at his girlfriend's anger. He might have too, if we weren't all present to see his shame. And because of that, he tried to remain as mellow as possible. "I'm not as thick as your cousins, Rose. Al and I are trying out for the team this year for some healthy competition, that's all."
Rose's anger simmered down a tiny, tiny bit. "If the thrill of competition is what you wanted, why didn't you join the Ancient Runes Association with your girlfriend instead? We could've spent more time together. And it'd be more productive than me worrying in the stands if a bludger goes flying your way."
"Where's the satisfaction in that?" Louis snorted, giving Malfoy a few seconds to come up with the perfect response before Rose killed him. "Walking around, holding your books for you, and racing to the library when some annoying teacher shouts 'define that symbol!', does not compare to the thrill and overwhelming rush of playing Quidditch against smarmy bastards that you can throttle without worries of getting detention. No bloke wants to do nerdy things, Rose."
Rose's palm contracted into a fist and her brown eyes narrowed dangerously. "Oh, shut up, Louis. What do you know of the thrill of Quidditch? With your skills, you won't even make it to the stands."
The blonde looked instantly appalled. And before the cycle could repeat itself, especially since Freddie looked ready to make more jokes, I cut across it. "Anyway, if you girls don't mind, shove off. Us blokes still need to continue changing."
"True," Freddie said, standing in everything but his pants; his ruby and gold stripped boxers on, thank Merlin.
Lily made another disgusted face. "Alright, we'll be waiting in the stands to witness your embarrassment." She laced her arm through Emily's and started pulling her away from our brother's side. "Come, Em. Liam said he'll meet us there. He went to grab a camera to have proof of my family's shame."
"Lily, I will butcher you and Greengrass if I see cameras!" James snapped, following after them as Louis and Rose walked with him.
Finally.
Exhaling, letting out my annoyance—because honestly, why does everything have to be so dramatic and loud with these people—I kicked off my shoes and stood up from the corridor floor. I reached for the ends of my shirt and was about to pull it off when a whistle broke out.
"I see you undress in front of everyone."
Groaning, I pulled my shirt back down. "Why has everyone suddenly found a fancy to this corridor?"
"What are you talking about? This is the main corridor to head out to the grounds." Standing there was Nia. Our eyes met as my annoyed silence turned into a thorough observation.
Her usual straight and blonde hair was not in her natural and flowing curtains of silk, but instead it was waved perfectly down the middle of her back. Her lashes were coated with that thing girls use to make them thicker, and for some reason, her blue eyes were sparkling more than ever. Her pink lips were glossier and full.
Above that, she was wearing a pair of black converse trainers on her feet—a trend Lorcan damn Scamander introduced her to—a pair of black shorts that exposed those toned and long legs that made my heart bang, and, to my surprise, my Slytherin jumper and tie. (The jumper somehow much more fitting than its ever been on her.)
Noticing that I wasn't the only one gaping at her with a jaw dropped, I punched Freddie on the back. At least Malfoy had the decency to look away.
"When you said you were going to try out for Quidditch, I honestly assumed you were kidding." She was smirking at me now. "I guess we can share your broom. It's always been satisfactory riding with you."
I gulped, my cheeks turning pink and her bad indirect, and Malfoy made a nasty heaving sound from where he stood.
"Bloody disgusting," he snapped. "Have some respect for those around you."
Nia kept her smirk.
"You better change fast and meet me at the pitch in ten minutes," Malfoy said in an ordering fashion when he saw that I couldn't take my eyes off my girlfriend. And because of that, I received a punch to my arm. "I'm serious, Potter. Ten minutes before tryouts start."
With his pants still around his ankles, Freddie managed to grab the quidditch trousers he needed before Malfoy started pushing him out of the corridor. They were muttering crude things about Nia and I, but all I managed to catch was my redhead cousin's thumbs-up before they disappeared completely.
Chuckling to herself, Nia leaned against the corridor wall. "I love the fact that I can always make them leave."
"Yeah, but they think the worst of us, you know. They're convinced we shag like bunnies."
A small frown creased her forehead but she was quick to laugh it off. "Who cares what they think, honestly. You and I know how far we've let things go. Oh—and Liam, of course."
It was my turn to frown, though there wasn't a chuckle following it. "Why does Greengrass know our personal business?"
"He's my best friend—"
"You don't see me telling Malfoy anything," I interrupted. "Don't tell me, Scamander knows too?"
Her smile and laugh lines were gone. One does not have a confrontation with Nia Harper without her getting submerged in a defensive attitude. "Bugger off about Lorcan, honestly. And Liam is my best friend, Al; he knows things because you don't seem to clear them up." She pulled herself away from the wall she was leaning on and took various steps towards me. "Why don't you, Al? Why don't you tell them that we haven't had sex?"
Taking a deep breath, I had to settle myself. I didn't want to argue with her—especially when there was nothing to argue over with her. She had a right to tell Liam anything if she wants to, and I'm a damn twat for always insinuating that Nia and I have crossed that intimate bridge in our relationship.
"I'm sorry," I told her, taking steps to her as well. And I really did mean it. Why? Because I'm a bloke—and an insecure one at that. The more I let everyone think that Nia and I own each other in every level, the word spreads out and everyone will know that she's mine. It's territorial. And it's not right.
Using her breathing techniques to help settle that flicker of anger that can easily transform into a catastrophic fire in a flat second, she nodded at me several times. "Yeah, alright. Let's let it go."
I put my arms around her waist instantly; smiling. "Thank you for coming. I like the support."
As I squeezed her waist, she tried to give me a smile. "I knew you would," she said tensely, still trying to calm herself. "I hope you enjoy it too. This is the only time I'm ever going to wear Slytherin gear, mind you. My Gryffindor pride is too strong to not support them during games."
"Maybe I won't make it in."
"You will." And this time she was smiling. Those pink and glossy lips of hers formed the most precious smile I'm blessed to see, and her beautiful eyes sparkled more. Her gaze was filled with a scared adoration. "You're a brilliant Chaser, Al. And you should've tried to join the team sooner. They'll be lucky to have you."
Looking into her eyes for one more second, I closed the space between us and kissed her.
Our kisses were usually laced with passion and all that drive that she has pent up inside of her, but this time my passion was cut short and it was drowned by a tenderness that I had never gotten from her before. It was sweet, slow, caring, and filled with trembles.
"...I love you, you know that, right, Al?" She pulled away from the kiss before I could; speaking before I could ask why she felt so nervous and terrified.
I nodded at her seriously, reeling her in tighter. "I know, Nia. And I love you too."
An attempt of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You've got five minutes, Potter. I'll be waiting in the stands, slowly dying of embarrassment for supporting Slytherin in their tryouts."
Saying my temporary goodbye, I bent down and picked up the Quidditch gear that I still hadn't put on. And just as I was about to pull my own shirt over my head, I was interrupted the second after Nia disappeared and I had gained a tiny moment of silence.
Appearing like a shadow on a concrete floor during a moonlight night, undetected and slightly nerve-wracking, a girl with eyes almost like black paint was staring at me. She dug those eyes of hers right through mine, a grin on her lips as she casually twirled a stand of black hair around her wand.
"Lost, De la Cruz?"
From the moment my voice echoed around the corridor, the girl seemed to glow with mischief. "You can say that," she said with a heavy, Spanish accent.
I cleared my throat.
"Can you show me where the Seventh Floor is?" The air surrounding us made my skin crawl with goosebumps—the anxious kind. "I hear there's a magical room there. I would really like to see it."
"I'm not really sure Professor Alan would like that." Which was very much true. It had been heard and seen for the last week, since the two new students were introduced to the school, that Alan was taking the role as personal mentor for the new kids. He had been showing them every inch of the castle without a chance for anyone to talk to the De la Cruz twins.
She snorted. "That hombre has no say in what I do," she said with aggravation. "So, will you, Albus? Will you show me something exciting? You're my only hope."
"I'm sure you can—"
"Gracias, Albus!" She was grinning widely that I couldn't help but stare dumbly at her. "It's not a problem is it?"
Clearing my throat, the shake of my head indicating that there wasn't a problem at all practically happened on its own. "No problem. But, we should stay there for a while. The bottom levels of the castle are going to be packed. I hear there's Quidditch tryouts going on."
She laughed cheerfully; her shoulders shaking as she tossed her head back. "Brilliant." And then she took my hand without an invitation. And I found myself not minding at all. Not even when she pointed her wand at the sack of old Quidditch gear, making it vanish; signaling that she'd known all along where I was supposed to be.