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VI.

"Roderick Childermass, Hillary Rhododendron - but she's only a third year! - Elliot Fetter, Paisley Yale, Jiminy Tolken," read Gaiter, the Hufflepuff insignia at the top of the parchment she held glittering gold, "Cedric Diggory, of course, and you," she finished, looking up at Rotis.

Dicken snatched the lineup parchment out of her hands and read it for himself, pausing between names to locate the players. The trio was standing by their wardrobe in the common room, the quietest bunch in the whole room - the Quidditch lineup had only been posted that morning, and the room was full of hopeful chatter; maybe this year they would actually win a match.

"This is a whole new team," he remarked. "Only players from last year are Jim and Cedric. Surely not that many graduated?"

"No," answered Gaiter, "I think a few people just quit. It was that humiliating." She glanced over at Rotis, but the girl was nowhere near them, at least mentally. Gaiter followed her glassy stare to a ratty mustard yellow armchair (and was reminded of Hufflepuff's great gyp on House colors), where none other than Cedric Diggory was sitting. Gaiter looked at Cedric, who was busy conversing with his new Chasers, Elliot and Hillary, and back at Rotis, who was watching him as though she was the one he was talking to. Gaiter shrugged, nudged Dicken, and tilted her head to the wardrobe.

"We're going in the Hole," she said to Rotis. Rotis whirled around, looking flushed, though it was November and freezing outside, and the room was far from warm. "You going to stay and meet your teammates?"

She nodded and turned back to her Cedric watching before the wardrobe door had shut.

Cedric suddenly looked up and smiled at her.

"Rotis!" he called. "Come over here!"

Feeling her heart rate triple, she whirled around, seeing if there were any other Rotis's he might have been indicating. Finding none, she walked casually to the arm chair, knowing it would not be tactful to bound and hop, though that was what she felt like doing.

"You know this lot, I hope?" he asked, indicating the couch covered in students. She nodded as Paisley Yale leapt up, her long tangled hair cascading behind her.

"We're Beaters!" she exclaimed, grabbing Rotis' hand and shaking it. "We're up against Fred and George in two weeks! Can you believe it?"

She felt a wave of apprehension at the thought of going against the school's best pair of Bludger kings. "Out first match is Gryffindor?" she asked meekly.

"Aye," said Jiminy Tolken, the team's veteran Chaser, who was standing behind Cedric's chair. "After they play Slytherin."

"But don't worry, Rotis!" said Cedric, and she immediately didn't. "Have a seat," he said, and she glanced at the about-to-break couch. "Here," he added, scooting over, and he met her eyes and smiled, that telltale smile, she forgot everything about the Weasley twins as she squashed in next to him.

"You weren't at try-outs, Ro," squeaked Hillary Rhododendron, pushing her way between two fifth-year boys on the couch. "How did you get on?"

"Well," she said, wondering how she should tell them she nearly killed Cedric, and wondering if Cedric was as aware as she was about the smallness of the chair they were sharing.

But Cedric jumped in, telling the story from his point of view, how he'd gone for a quick fly to take his mind off the day and hadn't seen the siblings in the air, only hearing a few garbled shouts before he was on the ground, his papers all around him. Rotis looked over his shoulder at her team, unconvinced, and felt a growing apprehension that her lucky accident had no merit against these players. They were probably champions, she thought, imagining Quaffle passes so fast they were invisible and stunning dives to block the Bludgers, death-defying swoops to catch the Snitch. She suddenly wished she were in the Hole with Dicken and Gaiter, never mind if it meant leaving this warm spot smashed against Cedric.

"But then I realized what had happened," Cedric was saying. "She'd come between me and the Bludgers - she'd used herself as a club." There was a silence, and Rotis focused on the back of Cedric's head (something she found strangely easy to do), afraid to meet her teammates faces. She was no good, she was just fortunate, it was Oliver who had got her on the team, she was no better than Potter and his lucky wins.

Cedric turned to face her, the space between their faces exhilaratingly close.

"And that's when I knew," he said, his gray eyes looking straight into hers, his dazzling smile gone, replaced with an odd smirk, "that she would be our best chance at the Cup this year."

She felt her face grow warm and the corners of her mouth turn up.

There was a whistle of astonishment from Roderick. "That really happened?" he said.

Rotis leaned forward and saw the entire couch with the same stunned expression on their faces. She nodded, the whole row of players gawking at her, unbelieving.

"That's incredible," said Paisley. "Crikey, all I did was keep one Bludger away from the team - and we even magicked it into going easy on us."

"Maybe we do have a chance against Gryffindor," said Elliot Fetter thoughtfully. He looked around at his teammates, his eyes lingering on Rotis and Cedric. "Maybe we do."

And the new-formed team grew quiet, each player lost in their daydreams of Hufflepuff glory.

Dicken and Gaiter watched the scene from just inside the wardrobe, catching snippets of what was being said, their eyes never straying from Rotis (and Cedric, since they were so smashed together) in that awful yellow armchair.

"Do you think we've lost her to the team?" whispered Dicken.

Gaiter sighed. "She is Oliver's sister."

Intense was not the word for the Hufflepuff Quidditch practices. Taking a page from the Gryffindor book, Cedric drilled the team constantly, day in and day out, sometimes up to thrice a day. Whenever the field was empty (which wasn't often considering Oliver Wood's manic practicing schedule, but that was understandable, since the Gryffindor/Slytherin match was drawing ever nearer), the Hufflepuffs were out there, passing the Quaffle, beating the Bludgers, and keeping an eye out for the Snitch.

And the team was optimistic, even by their House's standards. They entered the dining room every night tired and sweaty, but cheerful and smiling, receiving nods of recognition from everyone at their table. They were celebrities within their house, tiny first and second years idolizing them, sixth and seventh years nodding at them respectfully, wondering if they would get the chance to say they were there when Hufflepuff took the Cup.

They worked startlingly well together for a first year lineup; the three Chasers, though all different ages, seemed to sense where the other ones would be, and Paisley and Rotis were beginning to get fearful glances in the halls from other students, so ferocious with clubs they were. Cedric already had his own job of Seeker down pat, giving him extra time to coach the students, though even he was surprised at how little coaching they needed. There was chemistry between the seven of them, a connection that spurred them on, fueling them just as much as their House's hope and confidence did.

Meanwhile, the chemistry between Rotis and Cedric was finding it way off the field and into the common room. The pair, who had technically known each other for four years, suddenly became aware of each other in all places: He kept an eye out for her in the hallways, she declined the Hole for the publicity of the common room. She found it hard to concentrate in the library when he was browsing books only yards away, and he completely forgot the massive parchment in his lap when she was within his sight. Quill nibs broke and were ignored, inkpots spilled and were unnoticed, minor disasters occurred and went unknown when the two spoke to each other.

And they had been doing that quite a lot. Rotis spent many fervent minutes before test parchments were passed out trying to cram an entire textbook of information in her head, all studying time last night occupied with Cedric and their conversation. His father pressures him, she remembered stupidly as she emptied her book bag on her desk, searching for a study guide. He doesn't like flying or Quidditch that much, but his father insisted there be Captain in the family. His favorite color is blue (like your eyes, he had said, she remembered with a blush), and he always wanted an owl.

"Dammit," she muttered, hearing every grain of sand in the hourglass on the Professor's desk as it plinked to the bottom. "If only this test were over him, I'd ace it. . . "

Two floors below, Cedric was having his own difficulties. Half his mind was filled with battle-plans for the upcoming match, but the other half, the half he liked to dwell on, was thinking of Rotis and her blonde hair, Rotis and her blue eyes that reminded him of a Siamese cat's, Rotis and how often she blushed and laughed and smiled when he was around her.

None of his mind was on Potions, and Snape caught on to this like a missile to a target.

"Why isn't your quill moving, Diggory?" he barked. Cedric jerked back into reality, nearly upsetting a vile-looking beaker of red liquid.

"Perhaps your mind is out on the pitch," he said, his voice as slime-coated as some of the ingredients in his closet. "Rather a waste of time, don't you think," he muttered icily. "My money's on Slytherin. . . "

It would be, thought Cedric angrily, remembering past matches against the green and silver serpents. The team knew nothing of fair play, and had used countless tricks, most illegal, to secure a victory.

But his mind was emptied as he thought of how that would not be so this year, because this year, he had Rotis.

"It's just a little rain, just a little rain," Roderick Childermass was muttering to himself, rubbing his arms maniacally, shaking his head. "Just some rain, that's all, we'll be fine."

It wasn't a just a little rain. It wasn't even a lot of rain. It was a torrent, a downpour, a damned monsoon out there, and it was also the day they were set to play Gryffindor.

Only it hadn't been till a few hours ago. Apparently the Slytherin's Seeker had an injured arm and couldn't play, never mind the fact that someone could drown just by walking outside, so there had been some schedule swapping, some hand shaking, and now it was Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor.

The team sat nervously in their locker rooms, their bright yellow robes doing nothing to lighten their spirits. Hillary Rhododendron was looking like she might faint, and Rotis could see why - in this wind, the Lilliputian girl was sure to blow away, depriving the team of a much needed Chaser. Elliot was oiling his arm and leg guards aimlessly, Jiminy was looking grave as he stood in a corner, and Cedric himself was pacing back and forth in front of them, not knowing what to say.

"What happens happens," he had told them moments ago. "We lost a bit of practice time, but we're prepared enough, I know. We can do this."

A crash of thunder shook the stadium, and Rotis heard the crowd outside let out a single 'oooh' as lightning lit the sky. She was terrified down to her bones, but she knew she couldn't show it, especially once they were out on the field (as though anyone would be able to see through this mess). All of Hufflepuff had turned out for the match, reacting to the sudden switch of teams as the press of a button, and the pressure was building on the seven individuals in the locker room.

"Rotis," said Diggory, approaching and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Of course, Captain," she said, her anxiety completely forgotten once he arrived. "Maybe you'd better ask Paisley if she's all right instead."

Paisley was walking the circumference of the room, slapping her palm with her club and mumbling like Roderick.

Cedric smiled at her, and she felt chills unrelated to her case of pre-game shakes. "No pressure or anything, okay? We're in this together, and we'll be fine no matter who wins."

Just then a soaking wet and annoyed Madame Hooch entered the locker room. "They've announced your team twice already," she said curtly, her gold eyes flashing. "Are you going to play or not?"

"We couldn't hear over the wind," Cedric apologized, striding out the door bravely. Rotis followed after him, her broom hiked over her shoulder, trying to forget that it was the Great Flood out there.

It was not easily forgotten. All applause was silenced by the howling wind, all vision obscured by the cloudburst and dark skies. The fans were huddled in groups throughout the stadium - the usually cheerful yellow of the Hufflepuff section was a drab gray. Lee Jordan, who always commentated the matches, sounded like he was miles away and speaking through a blender - Rotis only caught blips and snatches of his voice, making it feel like they were being announced by a broken robot.

Madame Hooch was flailing her arms about at the Hufflepuff team, and Rotis soon realized this meant to fly. She mounted her broom and kicked off with what she thought was precision, but the wind soon caught her and threatened to slam her into the stands.

On the other side of the field, the Gryffindors were entering to more inaudible applause. Rotis thought she saw Potter from his unkempt black hair, but as the rain soon flattened it, it was really impossible to tell. She recognized her brother from the height advantage he had over the other players (a trait she had sadly not inherited), and the two with same gait must be the twins. Rotis scanned the stands for Dicken and Gaiter, but it was a hopeless search. The entire student body, or at least those that had braved the weather to watch the game, had been transformed into a mass of drippy spectators with their cloaks over their heads, giving the stadium the strange appearance of a monastery full of hooded monks.

Down below she could see Cedric and Oliver shaking hands, and there was a faraway tinny sound that must have been the whistle before the game had begun.

The Bludgers were just as excited as they had been when she and Oliver practiced, and before she could coax her Comet to fly in that direction, they had pelted into Elliot. Biting her lip, she tried to keep her grip on her club, though it, along with everything else, was slick with rain.

Someone scored - there was cheering from the stands, but it was impossible to tell who. She flew out of the thick of action and over to where her brother was pacing around the Gryffindor goalposts, looking grim. She searched, but she could only find one Bludger, and that was being passed between the Weasley twins in hot pursuit of Hillary, who was heading for the goals. Knowing alerting Paisley would be impossible in this storm, she dove down below the goals, watching Hillary approach above her, and then swooping up to knock the Bludger out from between the twins. It worked splendidly, though Hillary was soon blown off course and practically handed Angelina Johnson, one of the Gryffindor Chasers, the Quaffle.

The wind had abated, and she could now swerve and coast like she did at practices, so she swerved around and coasted beside Paisley, who was following the other Bludger. The Weasley twins were behind them, courting the same Bludger Rotis had just finished dodging. Both boys had both hands on their bats as they knocked it towards the girls, and in a skilled move neither had anticipated, Rotis slammed the oncoming Bludger towards her brother, and Paisley nabbed the one she was after before directing it to the other team's Chaser. The Quaffle dropped from the Chaser's hands, was caught by Jiminy, who sent it through a hoop while Oliver was trying to avoid the Bludger his sister had sent him.

Meanwhile, an even stranger thing was happening - Harry Potter was flying as though he was blind. He nearly flew straight into Elliot, and then came dangerously close to ramming a Hufflepuff goal post. She could hear bits of Lee's questioning commentary, wondering aloud what sort of maneuver this was, but his words were cut short as the teams called a time out and Professor McGonagall gave him a smart whack on the back of the head.

"We're up 20 points," said Cedric once the team had landed around him. "Everyone's doing fantastic, all we can hope is that Potter doesn't get the Snitch first."

"Not much hope of that," muttered Roderick, a few of the girls smirking in response.

Seconds later, the whistle blew again, and the teams took to the darkening skies once more. Even with the rain, the pace was picking up - Katie Bell of the Gryffindors and Roderick both narrowly avoided Bludgers, Alicia Spinnet using his distraction as a chance to score. The Quaffle passed to the Hufflepuffs, who raced it to the other side of the field, fired, and were blocked by Wood.

Rotis nearly hit Harry once, but his earlier problem seemed to be solved and he ducked just in time. Cedric darted past, and Elliot intercepted a pass between Katie and Angelina. The weather was worsening, if that was possible, and Rotis fought to keep her eyes open in the rain, slapping her bangs out of her face to see, of all things, Harry Potter as he was diving in the same direction as Cedric.

She realized the Snitch had been spotted, but the stadium was growing quiet (or at least there was a definite lack of fan's noise contributing to the din), and she heard a nearby gasp, but all her attention was on Cedric as he dove, reached, and finally clenched the golden Snitch in his hand. A roar overpowering the noise of the storm rose up from the Hufflepuff side of the stadium as Madame Hooch blew her whistle, people running out of the stands, some towards the team as they splashed a landing in the mud, some towards the other side where Potter had fallen, but Rotis didn't care, they had won, she had won, it was over, she pushed through the crowd to find Cedric, but he was nowhere to be found.

She turned around and saw him walking off the field, and she splashed through the mud to catch up, wondering why he was walking away when there was so much celebration going on. She glanced back to see if anyone else had noticed, but the mass of students were busy lifting the bewildered players onto their shoulders, screaming and clapping, covered in mud and rain.

"Cedric!" she shouted, but he didn't seem to hear. "Cedric!" and she ran a bit faster, catching up with him just as he exited the massive stone gates of the field.

"Cedric, we won!" she shouted, "We won! Can you beli--"

But her words were cut short as he suddenly grabbed her around the waist, pulled their two dripping wet bodies together, and kissed her.

Her shock soon dissolved, as did the cheering crowd behind them, the roaring storm around them, the ground and the wind and the rain that still fell on their heads. Her breathlessness from playing a hearty Quidditch match was soon replaced by a new one, and in the few moments that their lips were touching, she forgot and remembered, angered and forgave, laughed and cried and smiled and wept and was entirely speechless by the time he drew away.

"D'you have any idea, Rotis," he said, the rain falling on his eyelashes, puddles forming from their soaking wet robes, "how hard it was to look for the Snitch," and she was drenched in freezing autumn rain but she felt feverishly warm, "instead of looking at you?"

She smiled and realized there was much stronger magic in the world than what came from a wand before kissing him again.

They would have stayed there forever, fingers intertwined, completely ignorant to the weather that had plagued them before, but the crowd of cheerers suddenly burst through the gates, never suspecting, as they lifted their star Captain and new queen Beater onto their shoulders, that the two had been snogging behind the stadium.

Rotis looked down to see Dicken holding her legs, and she smiled back at him, hoping her unnaturally rosy face couldn't be seen in the rain, the victory of the Quidditch match taking a backseat in her mind as she rode back to the castle.