On Saturday morning, I was fast asleep when Pansy roughly shook me awake.
"Whassat…?"
"It's the Quidditch match! You're a player, Elaina!"
Still bleary-eyed, I was told to stand there by Pansy. While I yawned absentmindedly, she dressed me in my Slytherin uniform.
"…Pansy, are you actually a really good woman?"
"Not 'actually.' I'm just a good woman, period."
We headed to the Great Hall together, where the other team members had already arrived and were heartily devouring breakfast.
"You're late, Celesteria."
Captain Marcus Flint motioned for me to come over. When I sat beside him, a mountain of waffles, scrambled eggs, and even hot dogs was slammed down in front of me.
"You can't fight on an empty stomach! Eat up!"
This guy is incredibly muscle-brained, but in his own way, he does make sense. Even though he was eating something as idiotic as stacking pizza like pancakes and pouring ice cream over the top first thing in the morning.
"Here, eat meat! Meat!"
Next to me, a pale-faced Draco was being urged to take a heap of bacon by Cassius Warrington, one of the Beaters.
Perhaps because it was his first match, Draco was unusually unable to hide his nerves. It seemed he hadn't slept much the night before either, judging by the dark circles under his eyes.
"Um, I think toast and coffee are more than enough for me…"
"What's with that attitude from a young man? Just eat the meat already!"
In the end, Draco ate one sausage and three strips of bacon.
"Anyway,"
Flint, who had already polished off about half a mountain of pizza in no time at all, raised his voice while washing it down with a milkshake.
"We've got better brooms, better nutrition, and better muscles than the enemy."
"Of course, we've got skill too," he added, sweeping his gaze over everyone.
"Since we're here, I'll say it plainly."
Flint told us to form a circle. His expression turned uncharacteristically serious, and he muttered in a low voice so no one else could hear.
"I've got a girl I like."
After a brief silence, the team erupted. Bletchley widened his eyes in shock, Montague clapped and laughed, and Pucey whistled.
"Seriously, Flint? Who is it? Introduce her!""Is this really the time to say that?""What, are you gonna confess if we win or something?""That sounds like a massive death flag, doesn't it?"
As we all shouted our remarks at once, Flint grinned.
"So don't you dare lose. It'd cause me trouble."
"Captain, at least say it's for the sake of the house."
"Shut up. Like I care."
Sticking his tongue out at Draco, who had delivered the last retort, Flint ordered us toward the pitch.
Looking around, I could see that Draco's earlier stiffness had eased, and the other members were looking livelier than ever. Stuff like this really isn't something you can dismiss.
"So Flint-senpai wasn't just a musclehead after all. I've gained some respect for him."
"You can fall for me if you want, shorty."
"Who are you calling short?"
As a player, Flint-senpai has more than his share of problems thanks to his rough play, but it seems he isn't captain for nothing. He must have instinctively understood that if we loosened up and fought as usual, we could win on broom performance alone.
＊＊
When we entered the field, a huge roar went up. This year's Quidditch Derby was being overseen by Theodore Nott, and we could even hear some cheers for Slytherin from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.
After the customary ritual of Flint-senpai and Gryffindor's captain, Wood-senpai, trying to crush each other's hands in a handshake, the whistle blew and the match began.
"How's it going, Scarface?"
Draco, who had already shaken off his nerves, immediately provoked Harry and flew past him, flaunting the difference in broom performance.
As for me…
"Whoa!"
Dodging incoming Gryffindor Chasers and Bludgers, I shot straight toward the goal with the Quaffle in hand.
"So fast!?"
I easily slipped past a tackling Gryffindor Chaser, and I heard a startled voice. Hearing rumors and seeing the Nimbus 2001's performance up close are worlds apart.
Using the advantage of my broom, I completely left the Gryffindor team behind in terms of speed. I charged toward the rightmost of the three goals, where Oliver Wood was positioned, looking as though he'd stop me even if it meant a collision.
Of course, I had no intention of colliding.
"Here you go!"
Out of the corner of my eye, I confirmed Pucey-senpai, who had been unmarked, making a wide turn and charging in from the left. Keeping my face forward, I delivered a no-look pass. Wood reacted in a panic, but the slight delay and the difference in broom performance proved fatal, and Adrian Pucey-senpai scored cleanly.
"Nice one, Slytherin!"
The green stands erupted, while groans rose from the red stands.
"Alright! Let's turn this into a one-sided game!"
Flint-senpai approached from behind, casually throwing a fist pump, and we continued pressing the attack.
Slytherin has always favored an offense-focused playstyle, but getting the latest brooms has only accelerated that tendency.
"Celesteria!"
After stealing the Quaffle from Angelina Johnson, Flint-senpai threw it to me. Catching it, I used my small frame and speed to slip through Gryffindor's defensive line with ease.
George Weasley fired a Bludger at me, but I avoided it with a barrel roll, drawing an impressed whistle.
"Not bad, little one!"
"Who are you calling little?"
With deft evasive maneuvers, I closed in on the goal again and passed to Pucey-senpai, who had already moved ahead. With a feint that drew the defenders' eyes, he scored his second goal, and thunderous applause erupted from the Slytherin stands.
Immediately afterward, the booming voice of Gryffindor's Keeper, Oliver Wood, echoed across the entire stadium.
"Don't let that second-year take the Quaffle!"
As expected of Gryffindor's captain, he instantly saw through Slytherin's new tactics and barked out rapid-fire instructions.
"Celesteria's evasion is overwhelming, but that's all! First, don't let Flint steal the Quaffle!"
Roughly speaking, the roles on the new Slytherin team were as follows: Pucey-senpai as the forward, Flint-senpai as the defender, and me as the midfielder.
For me, blocks and steals that demanded physical strength weren't my specialty, but I was confident in my ability to keep possession of the Quaffle through broom control and evasive maneuvers that made use of my small build. In football or basketball terms, I'd be a technical dribbler, with speed covered by broom performance.
Meanwhile, the burly Flint-senpai focused on guarding and stealing using his physical advantage, then passed the Quaffle to me. I would break through the enemy defense with a swift counterattack, relying on my evasion, and pass to Pucey-senpai. After that, our cool-headed, skill-based ace striker, Pucey-senpai, would score with a feint-driven shot. It had some quirks, but fundamentally, it was a solid strategy that played to each member's strengths.
"Celesteria, I'm counting on you!"
"Leave it to me!"
Despite Wood's precise instructions, Flint-senpai made full use of his physical advantage to rip the Quaffle away and pass it to me. Unlike trick plays, orthodox tactics can still work even when seen through.
Naturally, Gryffindor fought back with everything they had, trying to block me. I avoided Alicia Spinnet, who shot up from below, with a corkscrew spin. Right behind her, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell split left and right, immediately setting up an ambush.
"Elaina, go left!"
Hearing Draco's shout from above, I obeyed without thinking, dodging Spinnet on the right and turning toward Johnson on the left. At that moment, Flint, who had closed in before I noticed, used his large frame to set a screen, acting as a wall that limited Johnson's defense.
"Thanks!"
"Yeah!"
Slipping between the two of them, I ducked to avoid a Bludger Fred Weasley fired from the side and headed toward Pucey-senpai.
"Don't let her through!"
At the same time Wood's booming shout echoed across the pitch, Bell, who had been free, moved to block Pucey-senpai's path. When I glanced back, I saw Spinnet, who had just turned, closing in at tremendous speed.
The distance to the goal was a bit far. As a cautious player, I usually focus on assists and passing sequences, and even in post play, I only take shots when I'm certain I can score. But still.
"Go, Celesteria!!"
I am a member of the team too, after all.
"Hah!"
The Quaffle traced a gentle arc through the air.
"Uraaah!"
Ah.
Wood lunged forward with all his strength, stretching out his hand, and his fingertips barely brushed the ball, knocking the Quaffle aside.
So close, but no goal. Disappointed voices rose from the Slytherin stands.
"Ghh…"
As for Gryffindor, although Wood succeeded in blocking the shot, he was grimacing in pain. It seemed he had hurt his finger by defending in such an awkward position.
Pucey-senpai and Flint-senpai noticed as well, both wearing rather malicious smiles.
"So that's one way to do it."
"If it costs Wood a finger, missing the shot is still worth it."
Even though the shot failed, the flow of the match was clearly tilting in Slytherin's favor.
"Slytherin leads. 120 to 30…"
Lee Jordan muttered weakly in commentary, and our lead was obvious to everyone.
On top of that, one of the Bludgers seemed to be malfunctioning, relentlessly targeting Gryffindor's Seeker, Harry. Because of that, the Weasley twins couldn't fully focus on harassing us.
"Practicing ballet, Potter?"
Draco, looking completely at ease, searched for the Snitch while also relaying enemy positions and approaching Bludgers to us Chasers from above. At times, he even went so far as to block enemy Chasers himself.
A Seeker's primary role is to catch the Snitch, but doing only that can leave them with little to do, so providing support through instructions and information is also important. Draco was surprisingly good at reading the situation, and his support was spot on.
Especially this time, with Harry struggling against the mad Bludger, the Slytherin team dominated possession of the Quaffle throughout, continuously putting pressure on Gryffindor.
However, when it came to the mentality of staking one's life on the match, Harry might have had the edge.
A loud crack rang out. When I instinctively looked over, I saw Harry deliberately take the mad Bludger on his elbow and, enduring the pain, dive straight toward Draco.
"What in the world…?"
Draco's eyes widened in fear. He held his breath and tried to flee, but then I caught a glimpse of something gleaming gold just above his left ear. Pucey-senpai and Flint-senpai seemed to notice it too.
"Draco, behind you! Behind you!"
At Pucey-senpai's desperate shout, Draco wore a blank, confused expression for a split second, then realized what it meant and hurriedly turned around.
Immediately after, Harry shot past Draco like a bullet. Draco regained his balance and gave chase like a missile. Ahead of them, the Snitch fled desperately, and thanks to the difference in broom performance, the distance between Harry and Draco gradually closed.
Then, at the moment Draco's broom drew level with Harry's Nimbus 2000, Harry did something unbelievable. He let go of his broom and leaned forward.
With only his legs gripping the broom, Harry's hand clawed violently at the air.
Finally, his fingertips closed around the cold Snitch.
＊＊
After the Quidditch match ended, I returned to the common room completely exhausted.
"Flint-senpai is a demon…"
While Harry was being quite literally bonelessly treated by Professor Lockhart, we were made to run laps around the pitch as a penalty for losing.
"Damn it all!"
"Wood, you idiot!"
"We'll win next time!"
"Uoooooh!"
Following the seniors who sprinted at full speed while shouting their frustration, Draco and I joined in with our own "ahh" and "waaah," while the Slytherin spectators also shouted and booed to vent their pent-up stress.
After our penance was over and Draco and I returned to the common room, we found the other Slytherins waiting with wry smiles.
Having heckled us to their hearts' content and satisfied by seeing the losing team's punishment, there was no one cruel enough to kick us while we were down. Instead, they looked at us with sympathy as we stood there utterly worn out.
"Next time, let's win…"
"Yeah. Absolutely."
Leaving the slightly dejected Draco to Pansy, I turned to head back to my room when Zabini Blaise stopped me with a grin.
"Yo, losing duo."
"Don't you have any comforting words for a heartbroken beauty, you sadist?"
"Then how about a drink in my room? I'll at least listen."
"You're clearly planning to take advantage of me."
I returned his grin, flipped him off with a smile, and headed back to my room.
"Oh, welcome back, Elaina."
"Good work."
When I returned, Daphne and Millicent greeted me right away. As soon as I sat on the bed, Millicent came closer and patted my shoulder.
"Gryffindor really was tough."
"They really were."
I let out a long sigh and flopped down onto the bed. Staring at the ceiling, I drifted into a dazed, empty state.
"..."
"Elaina, are you actually a little frustrated?"
At Daphne's question, I thought about it for a moment.
"It's not like I desperately wanted to win."
"Mm-hm."
"But we did work hard practicing up until now."
"Yeah."
"So I guess I wanted to at least break even."
"You're totally frustrated, then."
(End of chapter)
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