Whatever happened at Honeydukes had its adverse reactions. Even though we (I mean me and the twins) fled off to the Three Broomsticks to avoid Percy's wrath for the time being still I knew I'll have to face the inevitable soon enough. 

Though having Butterbeer did calm off matters for a short while. The Three Broomsticks was owned by Madam Rosmerta, a witch with greenish eyes and a pretty face. The inn was warm, crowded, and a bit smoky, but clean and welcoming. A mirror behind the bar reflected the cosy atmosphere, and drinks such as Butterbeer and Firewhiskey were served in glasses and in foaming pewter tankards, as well as gillywater, mulled mead, red currant rum, and even cherry syrup and soda with ice and an umbrella. 

We ordered a Butterbeer each and Fred and George started explaining to me all about their encounter with Percy. When the drink arrived the twins announced, "enjoy a foaming mug of this popular wizarding beverage. Cheers." We clinked our mugs. 

"To Perce and Clearwater," Fred raised his mug then so did George. They are probably never going to leave that alone.

***

In a few days, the first Quidditch match was scheduled. This had accelerated Wood's practice sessions and now our routine had become quite tough with both studies and practice to manage at the same time. And ironically though the first match was against Slytherins. Much more of a pride and ego issue. 

Wood was hell bent on winning and kept lecturing us fervently, "swing hard, Johnson. Be up to the mark. Harry I'm totally counting on you to catch the Snitch soon as you see it. Fred George eyes on the bludgers hands on the clubs. Weasley, I mean Kat, try scoring along with that thing you do to confuse the Keeper. Would definitely work. We gotta show those Slytherins who they are up against." 

And all this kind of motivational speeches and this and that. 

"Oh really? Show the Slytherins that they're up against losers?" 

We turned around at the voice to see the Slytherin team sauntering towards us. 

"What the hell are they doing here?" I spoke to Fred who only shrugged in reply. 

"Probably came here to show how big jerks they are. Nothing unusual. Carry on with the practice," George answered. 

"Oh no, we just came to show our new Seeker," the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, spoke up, "and our new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. Would definitely outrace your ancient Cleansweeps." 

I knew the insult was directed at the twins. But they didn't seem to take much notice, "oh yeah? We don't think so."

Ah well who's the new Seeker then? 

Sure enough, Malfoy stepped out holding his broom and with a lazy smirk plastered on his face, "good day, Potter." Harry and him had severe arch enmity between them. 

Wait... He was their Seeker? You gotta be kidding me. 

Out of their own accord the twins started laughing, "nice joke, Flint." 

Flint's eyes narrowed for a while, "laugh if you may. But when the match comes, we are gonna be the winners. Our Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones will surely lead you to your doom. Draco, here, his father brought us all our new Brooms." 

Fred laughed, "oh so you mean Malfoy's father purchased the rank of Seeker for his son. How ridiculous." 

One of the other team members spoke, "you have no idea. You are going to lose. You can't beat us. We will have the speed and the strength which you'll never be able to achieve." 

Time for Showdown. Gotta show these Slytherins how much they are worth in reality. "So you said you had Nimbus Two Thousands, right?" I spoke with a smirk dancing on my face because I was imagining their reaction after I finished speaking, "but with you lot riding these, they're surely going to be renamed as Dumbass Two Thousand." 

Our whole team laughed while the Slytherins stood there fuming in anger. 

"Good one, Kat," the twins high-fived me. Pretty much what I had expected. 

But then Flint poured out a stream of what seemed to be abusive words like blood traitors and scum and the rest. Fred and George immediately got red with anger. 

Oh no, we don't need a wrestle mania here. Absolutely not. 

But then much to my amazement (and the others too) Malfoy silenced him before he could insult more and get sliced up by my dear brothers, "shut up, Flint! You know you could do better things with your time then standing here cursing like a swearball." 

Uh... Really? Why would he yell at a fellow Slytherin to shut up? Anyways Flint did shut up. 

Then Malfoy faced me, "see you on the pitch." And just like that, they left. 

Unexpected is not strong enough to describe our mutual feelings.

***