Of Love and Quidditch

Madison was curled up in a bronze armchair, a blanket over her shoulders. A mug of tea was on the small table beside the chair. Open in her lap was A Witch, A Wand, A War, one of her favorite novels of all time. Suddenly, Madison heard loud, pounding footsteps. She looked up, and saw the familiar face of Ian Yardley. He was tall and gangly, six foot two at fourteen. His usually unruly sandy blonde hair was especially unkempt, his brown eyes looked at Madison with leftover flecks of worry.

"Are you sure you're okay, Mad?" Ian perched himself on the arm of the chair Madison was in.

"Ian. Stop. I'm fine. I have my tea that you made for me, and my favorite book, stop fretting over me."

"Well, as long as you have your book," Ian said half sarcastically, grinning lopsidedly at Madison. Madison loved books, and they were her security blanket. If she was stressed, upset, scared, anything, she could curl up with a book and all of her worries would disappear. Ian and Chloe, Madison's other best friend, loved books as much as Madison did, but literature didn't have the soothing affect on them like it did with Madison. Just then, the knight statue slid to the side, and Chloe Smythe slipped through the gap. Her long black hair was in its normal long braid, her hazel eyes calm.

"Hi you two. Mad, is Ian fussing over you?" Chloe asked.

"Like I'm dying of pneumonia," Madison said, "I'm glad you're here." Chloe grinned at Madison, and went over to sit on the other arm of the chair. Ian glared at Chloe.

"So," Chloe began. "What is going on with you and Ethan Dartmoore? Everyone is talking about you two."

"Nothing!" Madison exclaimed, trying to sound scandalized. "Come off it, Chloe. They're just rumors."

Chloe sighed audibly. "Don't be stupid, Madison, I see you two. Grinning at each other in the hallways, flirting during Quidditch games, AND not to mention today at the match. When he caught you, you two looked into each other's eyes with such..." Chloe searched for the right word for a minute, "...longing. Desperation."

"I do no--," Madison was interrupted by a 'don't-lie-to-me-I-know-you-too-well' look from Chloe, "Okay, okay, I admit it, I do, stop looking at me like that!"

"I knew it!" Chloe grinned triumphantly. "Who wouldn't fancy Ethan Dartmoore? He's a great Quidditch player with beautiful eyes, and those muscles...."

"Chloe, there's much more to him then that. I can see it... those eyes tell it all, even when he's acting like an arrogant tosser with Malfoy. He seems so alone, like he has nobody in the world he can be completely honest with, like he has to put up a front for everyone he knows." Apparently, Chloe hadn't been listening to a word Madison had just said.

"...and he's very silent and serious, but he looks really handsome when he is all stoic, like on the Quidditch field...." But, Ian had been listening. Madison had almost forgotten that he was sitting on the opposite side of her.

"You two are such prats!" Ian spat, his huge brown eyes angry, "Talking about him like he's some sort of hero, or celebrity! This is Ethan Dartmoore we're talking about, you two know very well what HE comes from, and the apple never falls quite that far from the tree!" It was true. Ethan's father Edward Dartmoore was a notorious Death Eater, and Madison's father's worst enemy. He wormed his way out of Azkaban with Igor Karkaroff by giving the Ministry of Magic names. Edward Dartmoore was the one who killed Madison's mother Delia fourteen years ago, and Normandus Kurt had sworn that Edward Dartmoore would die. The Ravenclaw common room was silent for a few minutes. Ian stood up.

"Well, Madison, you can play footsie with your little Slytherin mate, but when he does something horrible to you, don't come crying to me!" With that, Ian turned on his heel and stomped up the stairs to the boy's dormitories.

"Don't be stupid, Ian!" Madison called after him, but Ian was already up the stairs. Madison felt like crying, she hated when Ian got mad at her. Chloe rolled her eyes.

"He is such a moody little git. And they say only girls don't have PMT?" Madison giggled. "But, seriously though," Chloe continued, lowering her voice, "I think he fancies you. He always gets mad when you talk about any boy other than him, and don't tell me you haven't noticed the other signs. Like the way he was fawning over you today. 'Mad, let me get you some tea!' or 'Maddy, are you sure you're all right?' and let's not forget 'Mad, are you-- '"

"Okay, Chloe, I get the point."

"Obviously not. He's been moon-eyed over you for ages."

Of course Madison had known that, not that she liked to admit it. Ian was her best friend, like a little brother that was over a half a foot taller than her. She had tried to convince herself that it wasn't there, but it was no use. Ian would complicate things for sure.

"Chloe, this is Ian we're talking about. I remember when he thought girls had cooties."

"Well, in case you haven't realized, he's fourteen, not four."

"I still think you're round the loop."

"Okay, but when he starts sending you anonymous flowers by owl post and serenading you in the hallways, don't say I didn't tell you so." Chloe grinned at Madison, who grinned back.

"I'll keep that in mind, Chloe."