Status: Active
Give in to Love, or Live in Fear
#23
Marcus and the Ravenclaw Captian briefly shook hands and the game began with the blow of Madame Hooch's whistle.
Green and silver and blue and bronze blurred pass the crowd, the two teams positioning themselves in their respective places.
Bletchley zoomed to the defense of Slytherin's goals, the Ravenclaw Keeper quickly followed suit.
''Madame Hooch sent up the bludgers! Followed by the golden snitch!'' Lee Jordan, a 3th year Gryffindor and a great friend of the Weasley twins shouted through the speaker.
Already Mirabelle had to dodge a blunder 3 times.
''Slytherin is in possession of the Quaffle, Captian Marcus Flint going for the goals! Ah! Blocked!'' Lee couldn't mask the smile in his voice as it echoed through the air.
Marcus didn't care to shoot him a nasty glare, instead he focused on getting the Quaffle back from Ravenclaw's chasers.
A bludger ripped through the air, aiming for Mirabelle, although she hadn't seen it coming, her fellow beater came to the rescue, hitting it so hard that it zoomed pass the stands.
''Father my children.'' Mirabelle teased, her slight French accent thicker than usual as she had to raise her voice over the cheers, chants and small wind.
He laughed, shaking his head and continuing with the game.
''Aaric Monsour, Slytherin beater saves fellow beater Mirabelle Morde from a bludger!-...'' The last bit of Lee's commentary on the subject went unheard by Mirabelle, whosaid; ''I don't need to be saved,'' disgruntled, knowing he wouldn't have heard anyway.
That Jordan kid sure knew how to pump her up during a game.
Adrian 'accidently' pulled the hair of the Ravenclaw chaser who had the Quaffle, buying enough time to snatch it away as she shrieked and rubbed her head.
Madame Hooch blew the whistle, calling a foul as Lee Jordan scoffed and ranted about how that was uncalled for and needed to be punished.
''That's just! Well, that's just down right disgusting! M--- sorry Professor.'' Lee sighed, looking away from a stern faced Professor McGonagall.
Adrian shrugged in a questioning manner as if silently asking the crowd why they were booing, pretending he did nothing wrong, which of course made Mirabelle smile and roll her eyes.
Slytherin received a foul for that illegal move and the game continued.
''Ravenclaw scores!'' Jordan shouted a moment later, Bletchley glared murderously at the chaser who managed to trick him.
Someone rammed into Mirabelle's side and she was happy she was holding on.
She refrained from elbowing the Ravenclaw chaser, they didn't need another penalty.
''Watch it!'' She spoke dangerously low and disgruntled, before ramming right back into him, much harder than she thought she had in her.
There was a definite vendetta against said Ravenclaw chaser now and he wasn't getting off the hook that easily.
The other Chaser on his team passed him the Quaffle just as Mirabelle forcefully hit a blunder in his direction, the Quaffle flew out of his hands and Adrian quickly retrieved it.
''Hmph!'' The boy's air was momentarily knocked out of him and he desperately attempted to steady his broomstick.
''10 points to Slytherin!'' Lee Jordan notified, punching in the extra points.
Adrian scored, tying the team's scores.
Ravenclaws seeker spotted the snitch, it would seem, for he dived dramatically toward the green pitch. Malfoy catch sight of him, following his lead.
Mirabelle missed Higgs as the seeker, at least he knew what he was doing.
Davies attempted to throw the Quaffle in, although Bletchley kicked it away so far that it came
speeding toward Mirabelle, she ducked just in time, briefly swinging counter clockwise from the sudden need to duck.
She glared lightly over at him once she had steaded herself. He chuckled slightly, mouthing; 'sorry' with an apologetic yet amused look of his fair face.
Marcus toosed the Quaffle to Graham Montague, being chased himself by a hungry Ravenclaw chaser.
Slytherin scored once again, courtesy of Montague.
Malfoy and the Ravenclaw seeker were still in hot persuate of the once live bird, although Malfoy felt he wasn't as close and his fellow seeker, in realizing this, he yanked his broom back, gaining a loud and sudden blow of a whistle.
Marcus clenched his jaw, punching the air as they got yet another penalty from coach.
Jason Samuel took advantage of Marcus' absentmindedness and swung a loose blunder in his direction.
The blunder collided hard against his chest and knocked the breath from his lung, it would be amazing if he didn't have a few broken ribs.
Mirabelle was impressed by the force, in spite of herself.
A wonderfully lucky moment happened as Mirabelle spotted a blunder heading fast in Miles direction, gracefully, she flew near and swung the blunder at Samuels, revenge is rather sweet.
He fell backwards off his broom, taking it down with him.
Marcus found it hard to breathe, although he pushed through and continued with the game.
''Ouch! Nasty hit to Slytherin Caption Marcus Flint!'' Lee shouted, holding his own ribs subconsciously.
''Pucey's got the Quaffle! Passing it to Montague who... SCORES! Slytherin is in the lead by 10 points!''
''The snitch is being persuade! Almost there! Come on, Ravenclaw!''
''Jordan!'' Professor McGonagall scolded, Lee Jordan and being neutral didn't go to well together.
''Sorry Prof.'' He blushed.
''Draco Malfoy has caught the Snitch! Slytherin wins!'' He attempted to hide the regret in his extremely loud voice.
The stands erupted with cheers, groans and sighs. The cheers from the Slytherin's side and the sighs and groans from... well, everyone else.
The players descended to the ground, the Ravenclaw's sulking and the Slytherin's smirking.
''House party!'' Miles happily exclaimed, any chance of their being butterbeer and girls, he would gladly take.
Mirabelle smiled lightly, rolling her eyes as they were engolfed by their fellow Slytherins.
*
''You better head off to the hospital wing.'' Mirabelle advised as she glanced over at a wincing
Marcus Flint, cautiously cluching his ribs.
He stubbornly shook his head, attempting to refrain from frowning.
''Come now! I'll take you.'' She took his hand, leading him to the 1st floor tower, seeking healing from the schools matron.
He didn't refuse, it hurt far too much.
*
''As you suspected, Ms. Morde, broken ribs, three to be percise. It should take no time. You'll be able to make it in time for Defense against the dark arts.'' She smiled, although that did not soothe Marcus, he had hoped he would get off school for the day.
Mirabelle smirked evilly, gaining a small shove from her frowning friend.
Adrian had Arithmency, much to his dismay.
Once Marcus was cured, they grudgenly left the hospital wing to get to D.A.D.A.
*
After spending a few moments at the Slytherin celebration party, she took the letter she wrote to her parents and left the Slytherin house, she walked to the owlery to send her letter.
The sun was still visible, although it was down far enough that it looked a tad bit dark.
She climbed the many steps that lead to the circular empty windows tower, at last entering the owl infested room and coaxed her dark feather owl down to her.
Mirabelle handed the letter to the owl, placing it in its beck as she mumbled to whom she wanted it to be delivered to.
One her lonesome way back, she heard close chatter, followed by a hard fall to the green grass.
She snarled angrily, jumping to her feet as she prepared to hex the perpetrator.
Oliver held his hands up in a defensive manner, his heart pounding wildly.
Mirabelle looked bored by this gesture, crossing her arms over her chest. ''Why do you constantly knock me to the ground?'' She inquired.
He opened his mouth to speak, although nothing came out.
She looked expectedly up at him, her dark brows rose in mock curiousity.
''I don't do it on purpose.'' He at last spoke, his voice soft and low.
She glared slightly, slowly walking around him and heading for the castle.
Oliver breathed a sigh and attempted to remember why he had walked this direction to begin with.
*
Instead of drinking and dancing with the rest of the Slytherin house, she, Marcus and Adrian left for the boys dormitory, the party was infested with 1st and 2nd years.
Mirabelle took a seat on Adrian's bed, scribbling a response to her mystery Gryffindor writer as the boys opened up a bag of Bertie Bots every flavored beans.
Tell me about that scar on your hand.
Looking down at her hand, she smiled, wondering how on earth he knew about it.
Why, gotten that close to me, have you?
She teased.
Battle wound. Got into a bit of a quarrel with some girl in D.A.D.A my 1st year.
I see.
The boy laughed, shaking his head lightly.
Did you get hurt today?
He was worried.
No, I didn't. I can't say the same for 'ole Marcus though, three ribs were broken.
She subconsciously glanced over at him as he popped a strange pink jelly bean into his mouth.
The mystery boy felt a strange pinch of jealousy.
Really? So, you and Flint are...?
Best friends. If that's what you mean, siblings without the same blood. He's like my big brother, and Adrian, of course.
The Gryffindor boy found himself sighing lightly, ten tons of weigh lifted from his chest.
Green and silver and blue and bronze blurred pass the crowd, the two teams positioning themselves in their respective places.
Bletchley zoomed to the defense of Slytherin's goals, the Ravenclaw Keeper quickly followed suit.
''Madame Hooch sent up the bludgers! Followed by the golden snitch!'' Lee Jordan, a 3th year Gryffindor and a great friend of the Weasley twins shouted through the speaker.
Already Mirabelle had to dodge a blunder 3 times.
''Slytherin is in possession of the Quaffle, Captian Marcus Flint going for the goals! Ah! Blocked!'' Lee couldn't mask the smile in his voice as it echoed through the air.
Marcus didn't care to shoot him a nasty glare, instead he focused on getting the Quaffle back from Ravenclaw's chasers.
A bludger ripped through the air, aiming for Mirabelle, although she hadn't seen it coming, her fellow beater came to the rescue, hitting it so hard that it zoomed pass the stands.
''Father my children.'' Mirabelle teased, her slight French accent thicker than usual as she had to raise her voice over the cheers, chants and small wind.
He laughed, shaking his head and continuing with the game.
''Aaric Monsour, Slytherin beater saves fellow beater Mirabelle Morde from a bludger!-...'' The last bit of Lee's commentary on the subject went unheard by Mirabelle, whosaid; ''I don't need to be saved,'' disgruntled, knowing he wouldn't have heard anyway.
That Jordan kid sure knew how to pump her up during a game.
Adrian 'accidently' pulled the hair of the Ravenclaw chaser who had the Quaffle, buying enough time to snatch it away as she shrieked and rubbed her head.
Madame Hooch blew the whistle, calling a foul as Lee Jordan scoffed and ranted about how that was uncalled for and needed to be punished.
''That's just! Well, that's just down right disgusting! M--- sorry Professor.'' Lee sighed, looking away from a stern faced Professor McGonagall.
Adrian shrugged in a questioning manner as if silently asking the crowd why they were booing, pretending he did nothing wrong, which of course made Mirabelle smile and roll her eyes.
Slytherin received a foul for that illegal move and the game continued.
''Ravenclaw scores!'' Jordan shouted a moment later, Bletchley glared murderously at the chaser who managed to trick him.
Someone rammed into Mirabelle's side and she was happy she was holding on.
She refrained from elbowing the Ravenclaw chaser, they didn't need another penalty.
''Watch it!'' She spoke dangerously low and disgruntled, before ramming right back into him, much harder than she thought she had in her.
There was a definite vendetta against said Ravenclaw chaser now and he wasn't getting off the hook that easily.
The other Chaser on his team passed him the Quaffle just as Mirabelle forcefully hit a blunder in his direction, the Quaffle flew out of his hands and Adrian quickly retrieved it.
''Hmph!'' The boy's air was momentarily knocked out of him and he desperately attempted to steady his broomstick.
''10 points to Slytherin!'' Lee Jordan notified, punching in the extra points.
Adrian scored, tying the team's scores.
Ravenclaws seeker spotted the snitch, it would seem, for he dived dramatically toward the green pitch. Malfoy catch sight of him, following his lead.
Mirabelle missed Higgs as the seeker, at least he knew what he was doing.
Davies attempted to throw the Quaffle in, although Bletchley kicked it away so far that it came
speeding toward Mirabelle, she ducked just in time, briefly swinging counter clockwise from the sudden need to duck.
She glared lightly over at him once she had steaded herself. He chuckled slightly, mouthing; 'sorry' with an apologetic yet amused look of his fair face.
Marcus toosed the Quaffle to Graham Montague, being chased himself by a hungry Ravenclaw chaser.
Slytherin scored once again, courtesy of Montague.
Malfoy and the Ravenclaw seeker were still in hot persuate of the once live bird, although Malfoy felt he wasn't as close and his fellow seeker, in realizing this, he yanked his broom back, gaining a loud and sudden blow of a whistle.
Marcus clenched his jaw, punching the air as they got yet another penalty from coach.
Jason Samuel took advantage of Marcus' absentmindedness and swung a loose blunder in his direction.
The blunder collided hard against his chest and knocked the breath from his lung, it would be amazing if he didn't have a few broken ribs.
Mirabelle was impressed by the force, in spite of herself.
A wonderfully lucky moment happened as Mirabelle spotted a blunder heading fast in Miles direction, gracefully, she flew near and swung the blunder at Samuels, revenge is rather sweet.
He fell backwards off his broom, taking it down with him.
Marcus found it hard to breathe, although he pushed through and continued with the game.
''Ouch! Nasty hit to Slytherin Caption Marcus Flint!'' Lee shouted, holding his own ribs subconsciously.
''Pucey's got the Quaffle! Passing it to Montague who... SCORES! Slytherin is in the lead by 10 points!''
''The snitch is being persuade! Almost there! Come on, Ravenclaw!''
''Jordan!'' Professor McGonagall scolded, Lee Jordan and being neutral didn't go to well together.
''Sorry Prof.'' He blushed.
''Draco Malfoy has caught the Snitch! Slytherin wins!'' He attempted to hide the regret in his extremely loud voice.
The stands erupted with cheers, groans and sighs. The cheers from the Slytherin's side and the sighs and groans from... well, everyone else.
The players descended to the ground, the Ravenclaw's sulking and the Slytherin's smirking.
''House party!'' Miles happily exclaimed, any chance of their being butterbeer and girls, he would gladly take.
Mirabelle smiled lightly, rolling her eyes as they were engolfed by their fellow Slytherins.
*
''You better head off to the hospital wing.'' Mirabelle advised as she glanced over at a wincing
Marcus Flint, cautiously cluching his ribs.
He stubbornly shook his head, attempting to refrain from frowning.
''Come now! I'll take you.'' She took his hand, leading him to the 1st floor tower, seeking healing from the schools matron.
He didn't refuse, it hurt far too much.
*
''As you suspected, Ms. Morde, broken ribs, three to be percise. It should take no time. You'll be able to make it in time for Defense against the dark arts.'' She smiled, although that did not soothe Marcus, he had hoped he would get off school for the day.
Mirabelle smirked evilly, gaining a small shove from her frowning friend.
Adrian had Arithmency, much to his dismay.
Once Marcus was cured, they grudgenly left the hospital wing to get to D.A.D.A.
*
After spending a few moments at the Slytherin celebration party, she took the letter she wrote to her parents and left the Slytherin house, she walked to the owlery to send her letter.
The sun was still visible, although it was down far enough that it looked a tad bit dark.
She climbed the many steps that lead to the circular empty windows tower, at last entering the owl infested room and coaxed her dark feather owl down to her.
Mirabelle handed the letter to the owl, placing it in its beck as she mumbled to whom she wanted it to be delivered to.
One her lonesome way back, she heard close chatter, followed by a hard fall to the green grass.
She snarled angrily, jumping to her feet as she prepared to hex the perpetrator.
Oliver held his hands up in a defensive manner, his heart pounding wildly.
Mirabelle looked bored by this gesture, crossing her arms over her chest. ''Why do you constantly knock me to the ground?'' She inquired.
He opened his mouth to speak, although nothing came out.
She looked expectedly up at him, her dark brows rose in mock curiousity.
''I don't do it on purpose.'' He at last spoke, his voice soft and low.
She glared slightly, slowly walking around him and heading for the castle.
Oliver breathed a sigh and attempted to remember why he had walked this direction to begin with.
*
Instead of drinking and dancing with the rest of the Slytherin house, she, Marcus and Adrian left for the boys dormitory, the party was infested with 1st and 2nd years.
Mirabelle took a seat on Adrian's bed, scribbling a response to her mystery Gryffindor writer as the boys opened up a bag of Bertie Bots every flavored beans.
Tell me about that scar on your hand.
Looking down at her hand, she smiled, wondering how on earth he knew about it.
Why, gotten that close to me, have you?
She teased.
Battle wound. Got into a bit of a quarrel with some girl in D.A.D.A my 1st year.
I see.
The boy laughed, shaking his head lightly.
Did you get hurt today?
He was worried.
No, I didn't. I can't say the same for 'ole Marcus though, three ribs were broken.
She subconsciously glanced over at him as he popped a strange pink jelly bean into his mouth.
The mystery boy felt a strange pinch of jealousy.
Really? So, you and Flint are...?
Best friends. If that's what you mean, siblings without the same blood. He's like my big brother, and Adrian, of course.
The Gryffindor boy found himself sighing lightly, ten tons of weigh lifted from his chest.