II. roman holiday | blaise zabini

chapter 8

*warning: physical fighting, inclination towards depression*

chapter 8

"maybe we should just try
to tell ourselves a good lie"

-Billie Eilish

It turns out that the Slytherin team shouldn't have been feeling so cocky, Blaise knew it would one day be their downfall.

Vaisey took a Bludger to the head the day before the game, Pomphrey said he had a really bad concussion and wouldn't be able to play for a while. Then, Draco backed out last minute, stating he was sick. Blaise had tried shaking him out of bed early that morning to no avail.

("Tell Urquhart I'm sick, can't play."

"You sure mate?" Blaise asked but Draco didn't answer again.)

So now Theo would be taking Vaisey's place while Cain Harper would be playing for Draco.

Urquhart sighed when they arrived at the field, the Slytherin team always arrived early to breakfast during game days. "Well, at least the weather's nice today."

Blaise frowned, their chances weren't looking great for this game. "Must be lucky."

The pitch was already beginning to fill, red and green flashes of color spread across the students.

As the Gryffindor team came onto the field jeers and applauds filled the stadium as both teams stood across from each other.

Potter and Urquhart stood up front with Madam Hooch while their teams stared each other down.

Blaise found Lyra, standing next to Weasley and Thomas, the two other chasers. She had swashes of red on her cheeks, like warpaint and her hair was in a french braid, away from her face.

She winked at him before mounting her broom and Blaise blinked, dazed, before mounting his own.

On Hooch's whistle the fourteen players took to the sky. The wind was cold and felt like a slap to the face but it was enough to push him into action.

Zacharias Smith's voice sounded across the field, "Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley's patchy performance as Keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help..."

The Quaffle was in the air and Blaise dove for a grab, he caught it, aiming for the Gryffindor goal post, Weasley's red hair shone brighter than usual by the goal posts.

Across the way was Urquhart, arm out and Blaise launched the ball towards him. Lyra dived to reach it but Urquhart caught it just in time.

"Oh, and here comes Slytherin's first attempt on goal, it's Urquhart streaking down the pitch and -- Weasley saves it, well, he's bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose..."

Blaise rolled his eyes both at the commentary and the goal, if Weasley's look of determination was anything to go by, Smith would be eating his words by the end of the game.

"The ball is now in Knight's possession, she's passing it to Weasley who passes it back. Again, a large advantage it must be for these players, as they are well known friends of the captain himself."

Blaise could practically see the steam rising from Lyra's ears at the commentary, "And Knight dives as Goyle aimed a Bludger straight for her head... Better luck next time Goyle."