Chapter Nine |Year Three|

Amelie hadn't seen her Gryffindor friends, the Golden Trio, in a while. They had been busy with their things, and Amelie with hers. She had heard, though, that Ron had woken up to see a knife in the hands of the infamous Sirius Black hovering over him.

And that was how the ginger-haired Weasley became famous. Well, at least in the realm of Hogwarts. Also, Amelie had discovered that Buckbeak had been sentenced for execution, thanks to Lucius Malfoy. Amelie had been enraged to hear this, and confronted Malfoy as soon as she heard the news. Thank goodness it was their Hogsmeade day, Amelie really needed to get out somewhere.

"Malfoy!" she had called to, well, none other than Malfoy.

"What?" he sneered, looking disdainfully bored. Well, two could play at that game, Amelie thought.

"So, I heard a little something..." drawled Amelie, picking at her nails.

"And what was that something?"

"Well, that your father may or may not have marked Buckbeak for execution, which I find highly unfair," said Amelie angrily, switching out of her bored, Snape-inspired personality. "Your father is a prejudiced tyrant, in case you didn't know,"

At this Malfoy had a hard time keeping his emotions in check. So, maybe she was right. So what if his father was prejudiced? "At least my father isn't a blood traitor,"

Amelie's face contorted with anger. "You dare - "

"Aw, a little feisty, aren't we?"

"You say that again and I'll - "

"You'll what? Hurt me? We both know I'll win."

"No, you - "

"Will win? Why, thank you for your faith in me."

"You - "

"No - "

"Why -

"Shut up - "

"You - "

"Dare? Yes, I do," replied Amelie a bit triumphantly. That was the first time she had finished a sentence in quite a while. She punched Malfoy hard, in the cheek, and walked away. "That was for your father," she called back, and walked back towards Lexi and Daphne.

Both of them had shocked expressions on their faces, as if they were surprised that she had just dissed their crush in public so spitefully. Well, scratch that. They were surprised.

Amelie saw Camille walking along with some older girls, and she said goodbye to her friends as she walked up to her sister. "Camille!"

"What do you want," said Camille, still chattering to her friends and throwing the occasional glance at Amelie.

"A week or two ago, you said that you made a bet with a boy that you were going to hook up a boy with me?" said Amelie. "And I said we were going to talk later about it?"

"Well. I don't know if this is 'later,' but, um, okay. I told him to get his ass away from me and my family otherwise he would get hurt."

Amelie raised an eyebrow. "And what did he say?"

"He said a bet's a bet."

"And?"

"I confounded him and put a memory charm on him so he wouldn't remember the bet."

"Wow, Camille."

"I know right? Okay, bye. You're welcome," said Camille abruptly, and turned away from Amelie to talk to her friends again.

"Bye," Amelie told her sister, who was clearly not paying any attention to her. She sighed and headed back to the girls' third year dorm, where she would go get her satchel that held her Slytherin Quidditch practice clothing. Amelie rushed out the common room, towards the pitch, where Flint had booked practice that day.

She waked into the changing room, where of course, all the other boy team members were changing. It sucked to be the only girl member of a team, Amelie thought. The boys saw her come in, and Amelie was suddenly reminded of her first-day encounter with Malfoy, and the uncanny lack of comfortableness she had felt.

"What's she doing here?"

"Uh - I think I remember something..."

"She's damn hot..."

"I'd bang her,"

"Maybe she got lost?"

The boy who had just said "Maybe you got lost" walked up to her and offered his hand smugly. "I'm Milles Bletchley, hot Slytherin girl. Are you lost?"

Amelie grimaced. She hated boys who were so full of themselves. "No, I'm the new Chaser, thank you very much."

Bletchley's eyes widened. "Oi! You're Amelie Santerre, then?"

"Yeah... now move and let me change before I punch you,"

"I doubt you'll do much damage,"

Malfoy stepped in between the two of them, and gave Bletchley a grim look. "Believe me, she'll do a lot more than just 'damage' to you, Bletch,"

"Okay, okay then - "

Amelie shoved him aside without another word and stared the other boys defiantly in the eye. "Move out."

It was just like tryouts, when Amelie had shooed them all from the room. The all exited the room soon after that. Amelie smiled to herself wearily. This was going to be a long practice.

After she had changed into the new Slytherin girls' uniform Flint had whipped up for her, a green-and-silver sports bra with a serpent on it that was basically the same thing Amelie wore to tryouts, except with a serpent on it,(they hadn't had a girl play for the Slytherin team since... who knows) she jogged over to the huddling group out in the pitch.

"So, the uniform fit, eh?" remarked Flint on Amelie's uniform. She scowled.

"If you call this skimpy thing a uniform, then yeah," she grumbled. Flint only laughed bitterly.

"Well, it's your fault for joining the team,"

Amelie rolled her eyes. Typical excuse. "Sure,"

"Anyways, here's your new Nimbus 2001," he said, throwing her a broom. Amelie's eyes widened. It really was a Nimbus 2001!

The chasers got started on scrimmages with the Quaffle, while Flint was being lazy and just let the Snitch out, and told Malfoy to catch it. Bletchley was also part of the scrimmage, just hovering lazily near the hoop. The two beaters, Bole and Derrick, were chortling rather nastily and hefted their bats dangerously.

"Okay, I'm going to drop the Quaffle now," said Flint. Amelie, Montague, and Warrington nodded at him, and the Quaffle was dropped. Amelie caught it first, speedily weaving in and out of the other chasers, and faked to the left as she neared Bletchley, and then dove right and sunk the Quaffle into the hoop. The two beaters had went to the other side of the pitch to take turns beating a hovering punching bag.

Warrington's personality was pleasant enough. "Good job, Santerre,"

"Thanks,"

"Alright, alright, don't get to smug about it," Flint reprimanded sourly. Amelie scoffed.

"What, so you can get satisfied about your own performance, but we can't? Real fair, Flint," she called to him bitterly. Amelie had to admit to herself, however, that there really was no such thing as fair in the world.

Meanwhile, Malfoy had caught the snitch in his gloved hand and flew over to Flint, with it in his hand. "I caught it, cap, do I put it back in or let it go and catch it again?"

Flint contemplated heavily on that. Should he make him endure more exercise, chasing the Snitch around and around, and let him actually learn the playing styles and strategies of the other players? Finally, he decided, "You'll be watching and possibly participating in the scrimmage," he told Malfoy, gesturing towards the ongoing scrimmage.

As Malfoy watched, he had one thing to say. He knew Montague and Warrington were good Chasers, but if one didn't know that from their knowledge already, then they would say that the two burly sixth and fifth years were extremely pathetic.

Amelie would dart quickly in between the two, showcasing impressive moves and speed. Malfoy had to confess, along with everyone else who was watching the scrimmage (a few Slytherins that had come to watch practice) that Amelie was an extremely good Quidditch player.

"Amelie!" yelled Flint loudly. Amelie, startled, nearly fell off her broom, she was so focused in the scrimmage.

"Yes?" she asked tentatively, not sure of what to do. Sure, Amelie didn't like Flint, but he was the captain, and he had the power to kick her off the team. She obviously didn't want that.

"You're sitting out for the rest of practice, so Warrington and Montague can play more effectively," said Flint shortly, as if Amelie was only a petty distraction during the scrimmage.

"Um - okay, Flint," she said spitefully, quietly fuming.

Amelie flew towards the ground and hopped off her broom, feet landing with a thump onto the grassy pitch ground. She stalked towards the changing room, and threw down her new broom, then grabbed her satchel. She threw a tank top over her bra-covered body, and let her hair down, as it was wet from sweat.

Later, Amelie decided, she would take a shower. But for right now, she was going to evaluate her team members' skills. She walked back towards the pitch, and sat down on the bench.

Since Warrington was reserve chaser, she didn't pay much attention to him. After she had left, however, Flint had jumped into the scrimmage and was now slaughtering Bletchley with the Quaffle, and Bole and Derrick had been admitted into the scrimmage too.

They were beaning the bludger that they had just let out at everybody except for Flint and each other. Malfoy groaned in pain as the bludger rocketed into his shoulder.

"Bloody hell! That hurt," complained Malfoy to the two smug beaters.

"What are you going to do, tell your daddy?" taunted Bole, swinging his bat and "accidentally" hitting Derrick with it. He covered the agony with a laugh, but Amelie could see his pain underneath.

Malfoy's face turned bright red and he flew off towards Flint again, muttering.

After the uneventful practice, Flint gathered around the members of the team and smiled. It wasn't a happy smile. It was just a smile. "I can taste victory this year. You bring glory to our house or else - " Flint looked around at the team. " - Or else." he finished lamely, but trying not to make it seem lame.

Amelie cleared her throat. The others turned towards her. "Well, for one thing, we won't be tasting victory if we keep playing like this. Flint, you are a ruthless player. You're going to earn the other house countless penalty shots if you keep acting this way, and Derrick, Bole. You two are just big, fat cheaters. Bletchley! You, my boy... are a cheater and need to work on your catching skills. I can show you some, but... Malfoy, you're okay, except for the fact that when you're mad, you grab the Beater bats and whack kids with them. Listen, that's not okay. Warrington is decent, Montague is a burly dude, but a cheater, and I'm - hate to say this, but I'm pretty much the only one here who's good. Why isn't Adrian playing for us this year?" she lectured them.

Flint looked ready to explode. It was his job to lecture the team, not Amelie's, he thought. "So what if I'm ruthless? Slytherin's won before, and we don't need your help,"

Amelie rolled her eyes. "Sure."

They were all soon dismissed, and they exited the pitch. Amelie went back to the dorm, and took a nice, long, hot shower. The steaming water felt blissful against her skin slicked with sweat, it was the perfect getaway from life. Once she was done showering, she dressed into a grey sweater and black leggings. Their Hogsmeade visit was today, and Lexi had asked her to accompany her to her Hogsmeade date with Malfoy.

Personally, Amelie didn't want to go. But Lexi was her friend, yes, the three girls had gotten over their fight, although Daphne and Lexi were still a bit frosty, and Amelie would do many things for her friends.

Daphne had been asked by Blaise to go to Hogsmeade with him, and she had readily accepted. It was evident that she didn't want to be around when Lexi and Malfoy were on a date together.

So that left Amelie. And Lexi had begged, yes, begged, her to go to Hogsmeade to help her with Malfoy. And of course, Amelie had said yes.

Amelie met up with her brown-haired friend in the Great Hall, and she had to be a bit disgusted by what her friend was wearing... to sum it up, Lexi looked like a slut. Amelie dug out a spare cloak of hers and draped it around Lexi.

"You might need this, it's to keep you warm," said Amelie hurriedly, gesturing towards Lexi's revealing outfit, to say the least. Lexi smiled and tossed her hair, which had been curled and blow-dried.

"Thanks, Amelie, but I want Malfoy to see me like this. I mean, I look like, well, this!" Lexi said, giggling. They spotted Malfoy standing with Crabbe and Goyle, looking subdued.

"Oh, look, there he is! You'll be cold, believe me," insisted Amelie, and forced the cloak upon Lexi's frame.

"Well, okay... come on, Amelie!" exclaimed Lexi excitedly, and dragged the young Santerre towards Malfoy. He smirked as the two of them neared him.

"Hello, Lexi, my darling. Amelie," he greeted them. Amelie sighed. He looked rather handsome... but Malfoy was on a date with Lexi, not her. Besides, why would a "filthy blood traitor" like Amelie ever like a traditional muggle-hater pureblood like Malfoy? Amelie shrugged off the twinges of jealousy that were spiking her heart. It was probably just her hormones.

"Hi, Drakey, my Drakey," cooed Lexi, and took his arm. Amelie saw Pansy round a corridor, and freezing when she saw Lexi with Malfoy.

The trio set off for Madam Puddifoot's tea shop, where all the prissy girls went to have their prissy dates. Unfortunately, the "prissy girls" included Lexi.

As they entered, Amelie eyed the pink decorations and pink tables and frivolously pink interior of the shop warily. She didn't like pink things. Well, she did, but she didn't like pink fiascos.. Like Madam Puddifoot's.

Malfoy and Lexi squeezed into a pink booth, with Amelie sitting across from them. A waitress with an unbelievably skinny waist sauntered over to their table on six-inch heels, and asked to take their order.

"What would you like?"

Amelie flipped through the menu, bored and uncomfortable. "Um... water with a topping of... water?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Are you sure? We have many - "

"What I said."

"Okay..."

She then took Lexi's and Malfoy's orders, and they sunk in to a steady conversation, if not awkward.

Well, Lexi and Malfoy had a steady conversation, mostly just Lexi cooing over Malfoy. The drinks were served, and Amelie looked at the waitress in disbelief.

"You gave me water! I said I wanted a topping of..." Amelie trailed off, forgetting what she had ordered. The waitress sighed.

"You said you wanted water with a topping of water," she stated.

"Oh... Then, uh, thanks," Amelie told the waitress, fidgeting. She couldn't believe how stupid she was. Water with a topping of water?

Soon after, Malfoy and Lexi started snogging, which was when Amelie sat their rigidly, feeling very uncomfortable indeed. She subtly gagged.

Then, the finale.

"Draco Malfoy, will you be my boyfriend?" asked Lexi. Amelie gritted her teeth. This wasn't jealousy. No, not at all.

Malfoy, fortunately, looked hesitant. "I don't know..."

"Please?" begged Lexi desperately. Amelie sighed. Her friend really needed proposal lessons.

"Malfoy, come with me. Lexi, wait for us," Amelie told her friend, and dragged Malfoy by the arm out the tea shop so she could talk to him.

"What?" Malfoy said as they left the shop. He looked confused, but also smug, in a way. "Are you here to romance me, blood traitor?"

Amelie was secretly seething about that comment, but she didn't let it show. "No, I'm here to tell you. Do you really, really like Lexi? Is this infatuation for real?"

"If you mean love, no, I don't love her. We're a bit too young, don't you think?"

"So do you like her? Should I approve of this match?" Amelie said irritably.

"Why, I didn't realize we needed your approval," he said crossly. Amelie could sense him getting impatient. "But, if you're wondering, it's an easy to snogging. And, when I get older, easy sex,"

She reeled back, horrified. "You are a pig, Malfoy!"

"So you say. But you're in love with me anyway."

"No, I don't! And get your ass away from me or my friends," Amelie yelled at him. He shrugged.

"Then in that case..." he quickly walked back towards the tea shop. Amelie followed, but unfortunately was too late. She saw Malfoy lean in to kiss Lexi, and say something. When she walked over to the two at the booth, Lexi was grinning, brightening.

"Guess what?" she cried excitedly. Amelie sighed.

"What."

"Drakey-poo said yes! I'm his girlfriend!" she cried, and hugged Malfoy. He grinned at Amelie, wiggling his eyebrows. Amelie scowls . So that's what he meant by "Then in that case."

The three head back to the castle, and Amelie is worn out. Mentally, at least. Another rough day tomorrow... and with Lexi and Malfoy dating, this week will be a very, very long week.