Chapter 20

Santana didn't bother changing back into her school robes. As soon as Daniels ended practice she flew right up to the castle, dismounting at the large oak doors and running as fast as she could. She was late. Daniels had kept them longer than usual, which normally she wouldn't care about, but today she'd barely been able to focus. She'd borrowed Mike's watch so she could be on time, so she was very aware of the time passing as Daniels made them run different plays over and over again. 

Her lungs burned as she sprinted up the second flight of stairs, her arm aching from the effort of holding her broom up. For a second she entertained the idea of just mounting her broom and flying there, but she quickly discarded it. She had her professors worried enough without her being even more like her uncle. 

"Don't even think about moving." She muttered, looking down at the stairs. "I don't have the time today."

Luckily, the stairs remained still. Finally getting to the fourth floor, she paused for a second to catch her breath, clutching at the banister for support. As soon as she stopped feeling light headed, she took off running again. 

"Where are you off to in such a rush?" One of the paintings called after her. Santana ignored it. "Youngsters are so rude these days." She heard it mutter before she hastily turned a corner. She slowed down immediately as she spotted Brittany standing outside one of the doors. Santana could tell she was nervous from the way she absently twirled a lock of hair, staring hard at the closed door. 

"Britt?" she called. 

Brittany jumped, spinning around with a hand on her heart. 

"Santana." She breathed. "I thought you were in there."

"I got held up at Quidditch practice." She looked down at her uniform. "Sorry. Why aren't you in there?"

Brittany's shoulders sagged as she turned back to the door. 

"I'm too scared."

"Sam's in there, and you're already friends with him."

Brittany nodded, biting her bottom lip. 

"And Mike…you know Mike, he hangs out with Mercedes."

Brittany nodded again, her hand slowly reaching for the previously discarded lock of hair she'd been twirling. 

"So why are you scared?"

"Quinn." She said quietly. 

For the last two weeks Santana had been meeting with Brittany in secret. Sometimes before dinner they would go down to the lake and hang out for an hour or two, and before quidditch practice she would leave earlier than she needed to so she could catch up with Brittany before going to the pitch. Without being in denial about liking the Gryffindor, Santana found she really enjoyed spending time with Brittany. She was different from anyone Santana had ever met; funny, mostly by accident, and incredibly observant. She saw things Santana would never even pay attention to, and thought deeply about everything. Everything had to have a reason for Brittany, so much so that she'd come up with an explanation as to why the giant squid was in the lake, and why peeves loved causing chaos, even why the hippogriff had attacked them; apparently Brittany had stumbled upon her nest, and the hippogriff was protecting her family. 

Santana had come to understand that this was why Brittany struggled so much in her classes. There wasn't really a reason for why you had to wave your wand a certain way, or why you had to stir your potion counter clockwise instead of clockwise. That was just the way it was, and for Brittany's mind, that was hard to accept. 

Able to understand her better, Santana knew she was the best person to help Brittany study for her exams. Brittany was so worried about failing and getting kicked out that she had brought a text book with her the last three times they had hung out. Santana wanted to help her, but that meant spending even more time with her, so she was going to have to come clean to her friends about her friendship with Brittany. 

They'd arranged to do it today. Tuesdays after lunch, both Gryffindors and Slytherins only had one class. Sam had already started joining them in their empty fourth floor classroom, practicing spells or playing exploding snap until dinner. Unfortunately for Santana, she'd been pulled into quidditch practice. She'd been hoping to give the group enough time to get used to Brittany so that she could sit with them at dinner, but now they only had an hour. 

"Yeah." Santana agreed. Quinn was stubborn, she knew that better than anyone, but she was hoping that forgiving Sam would soften her up to Gryffindors enough to accept Brittany too. "But it'll be fine….I'm really the one who hates Gryffindors. Quinn just doesn't like new people."

"Great." Brittany muttered. 

"Relax. We'll just tell her…something about surviving an attack together…."

Brittany nodded, eyes fixed on the door. 

"Come on." Santana took her hand. "Open the door." She would have done it, but her other hand was still holding her broom.

Holding Santana's hand tight, Brittany took a deep breath and turned the knob.

  *****************

"You're mental!" Santana heard as soon as they walked into the room. Sam and Sebastian were the only two standing, facing each other and both wearing looks of disdain. 

"How can they be better when Ballycastle Bats have won the league more times?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Because they've been around longer." Sebastian argued. 

"So what? Just means they've had more time to play and yet they don't have the most wins."

"We had the best chaser of all time. He holds the record for the most goals scored in the century by a single player."

"Which century?"

Sebastian frowned. 

"Come on." Sam pressed, cupping his ear with his hand. "Which century was that record for?"

"20th but so what? It hasn't been broken."

"He's not playing anymore that's what." Sam said, throwing his hands in the air. "He's not playing, so Puddlemere United never score."

"That's not true!" Sebastian yelled. "We've won the European cup twice." He held up two fingers. "How many times have your Bats won it?"

Santana turned to Brittany, raising both eyebrows. Brittany was smiling, watching the scene in front of them with clear amusement. She shrugged, then gently squeezed Santana's hand. Santana took that to mean she was ready to make their presence known. She walked forward, leading Brittany to where Quinn, Mike and Mercedes were sitting on desks. 

"Hey." Mike said, sitting forward eagerly and grinning at her. "Who do you think will win?"

"They've been at it for fifteen minutes." Mercedes said, looking bored. 

Santana chuckled, but it was cut short when she caught Quinn looking down at where her hand was joined to Brittany's. She took a breath, fighting the urge to drop Brittany's hand. 

"I don't know." She said. "Q what do you think?"

Quinn finally looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. 

"You think Sam can take Sebastian in a fight?" 

Her heart hammered in her chest as Quinn held eye contact. She felt a lot more nervous than she thought the moment really called for, but telling herself to calm down didn't work, and the death grip Brittany had on her hand did nothing to help. 

Quinn looked back at Brittany, her face giving nothing away, much like when they'd reconciled with Sam. Then she shrugged. The action had Santana's chest loosening instantly. She would have closed her eyes in relief, but Quinn was looking back at her. 

"As long as they keep their wands away, I think Sebastian's in trouble."

Her smile started slow, the corners of her mouth pulling up first on the left, then on the right. Then she chuckled. Santana and Mike laughed along. 

"Yeah Sebastian's super scrawny." Santana said. 

Nodding, Quinn scooted to the edge of the desk, making space for Santana to sit. Santana jumped up easily. Brittany walked round to where Mercedes was sitting and sat on the chair beside her. 

"What are they arguing about?" Brittany asked. 

"Quidditch teams." Mike told her. 

"Oh." Brittany nodded. 

"Puddlemere United is Sebastian's favourite team, and Sam was poking fun at them." Quinn explained. Santana felt oddly excited by how easily Quinn had accepted Brittany. 

"What team does Sam like?" Brittany asked. 

"Ballycastle Bats" Mike told her. "They're top of the league right now, by thirty points."

"Oh." Brittany looked back at Sam and Sebastian. "So Sam's team is better?"

"Exactly what I'm saying." Sam said, pointing at Brittany. "Thank you Britt."

"No it's not better. She doesn't know anything about quidditch so how would she know?" Sebastian said, walking closer to Brittany and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Listen to me Brittany, Puddlemere are a better team. We perform more consistently than Sam's black bats." He shot Sam a quick glare. Sam sneered back. "We always finish top five. Ask Sam how many times his team's finished close to tenth."

They all turned to Sam, who for the first time was looking less than confident. 

"Okay whatever. We've had a few rough seasons. That doesn't change the fact that we've won more cups. Santana tell her."

"Are you sure you want Santana involved in this?" Quinn laughed. 

"Oh right." Sam frowned. 

"Why can't Santana be a part of it?"

"Santana's dad's the trainer for Puddlemere united." Quinn told Brittany. 

"And he used to play for them." Mike added. 

"One of the best seekers we ever had." Sebastian said fondly. "Which should tell you which team is better." 

Sam marched forward, pulling Brittany up from her seat and standing between her and Sebastian. 

"Don't listen to him." He put his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arms-length. "Santana's dad was great, but don't let Seb confuse you."

"Okay." Brittany nodded, giggling. 

"It's very simple. All you need to know is which team has won the league more times, and who is currently at the top of the table. Answer to both questions-"

"It's not that simple." Sebastian pushed Sam, pulling Brittany back to him. "They've only won five more times than us, that's not that many. So the question actually is, would you rather support a team that performs erratically from season to season, or a team that always does well, even if we don't always win?"

"You know who doesn't always win? Losers!"

Santana leaned forward so she could see Brittany properly and felt her insides warm at the broad smile on Brittany's face. She hadn't seen Brittany smiling like that before, looking so content and happy. It made her smile along with her. 

"So Brittany huh?" Quinn asked quietly. 

Santana shrugged one shoulder, turning to Quinn. "I know she's kind of weird but she didn't have anyone, and after-"

"The forest." Quinn nodded. "I get it. You guys went through something together, that's why you forgave Sam."

Santana nodded. 

"It's cool, what's one more Gryffindor? Just don't bring a Ravenclaw next."

Santana chuckled. "It would be fun to show them they're not smarter than us, but no." She shook her head. "I think we have enough friends."

She looked back at Brittany, Sam and Sebastian, who were now trying to prove their team was better by listing their best players' statistics. Santana could see Brittany's confusion, but she nodded along dutifully, repeating players' names and asking all the right questions. It was the kind of interaction she, Quinn and Mercedes never engaged in. They usually just told them flat out that they didn't care, or after several minutes of listening to them argue would yell at them to shut up. Even though Sebastian and Sam were still shouting, the hostility that had been present when Santana and Brittany first walked in was gone. They were even laughing every so often, which Sebastian hadn't been able to do with Sam before. 

Santana leaned into Quinn, content to watch the three go on as long as it took, and feeling like Brittany was the perfect addition to their little group. 

  ***************

Santana stared down at her empty plate, head in her hands and heart in her stomach. She had no idea what conversations were going on around her, or even what they were having for dinner. Every time she thought about serving food her stomach turned uncomfortably. She thought it better not to risk it. 

"Santana will you calm down!" Quinn said from beside her. "This is what we wanted."

"Yeah I thought you said you're only hope is Ravenclaw winning?" Brittany asked from across the table. 

"It was…is." Santana looked up. "But I don't know….if they'd lost-"

"Then it wouldn't be on you to win us the cup." Quinn said. 

"Yeah."

"I get that." Sam said. "Two hundred points is mad." He shook his head. 

"You trying to psych her out?" Sebastian asked. Sam didn't answer, simply turning to frown at him. 

"I think this makes for a much more interesting season." Mike says. "Three houses in the race for the cup? That doesn't happen often."

"Three houses?" Santana asked. 

"Well….sorry Santana but no one really believes you're going to be able to beat Gryffindor by two hundred points." 

"Really?" Santana sat up straighter. "People think we're out do they?" 

She noticed Quinn smirking, but ignored it. 

"That's what people are saying is it? That Gryffindor's going to win?"

Mike glanced nervously at Mercedes before nodding slowly. 

"Is that what you think?"

Mike chose not to answer. 

"Well we'll show you. I'll score all twenty goals myself if I have to." She got up from the table, glaring at Mike and then Sam, before turning and walking out of the great hall. 

She was not going to lose that match. Not to Gryffindor. Not when everyone already thought they would. They might not win the cup, but she would not lose the match.

Just as she turned the corner from the great hall, she felt a hand gently close around her arm. She spun around, prepared to punch whoever it was, but stopped when she saw Brittany. 

"What's wrong?" Brittany asked. 

Santana sighed. One of the things she both liked and hated about Brittany was how she never asked rhetorical questions. Things like 'are you okay?" when she could clearly see that you were not, or 'is everything okay?' It made it hard for Santana to brush off her concern. 

  She pulled her arm out of Brittany's. 

"People are annoying."

"Mmhh" Brittany grunted. "Are you annoyed that they think you won't win, or that you think they're right?"

Santana frowned. "Why would I think they're right?"

Brittany cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, a look that told Santana plainly that she wasn't fooling her. 

"You think they're right?" She asked more to deflect from herself. 

"No." Brittany said. "I don't know anything about quidditch, how would I know what your chances of winning are?"

"Not good." Santana admitted. 

"Hm?"

"Our chances are not good." 

"Is that why you're angry?" 

Santana shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Who said I was angry?"

Brittany giggled, dropping her head to look at the floor. Santana felt herself smile, forgetting her worries for a moment and wondering what Brittany found so amusing. She licked her lips. 

"What?" 

"Nothing." Brittany shrugged. "If you're not angry what are you?"

Santana's frustration returned immediately. She ran her hand through her hair and sighed. 

"Nobody else may believe it's possible, but all the Slytherins do. They're expecting us to actually be able to pull it off. Win by 200 points." She chuckled humorlessly. "200 bloody points."

"And what?"

Santana looked at her incredulously. 

"And what? What if we lose?"

"Yeah what if?" Brittany nodded, taking a step towards her. "What happens if you lose?"

Santana continued to stare. 

"Do you lose points?"

"No but-"

"Do you get banned from playing next year?"

"No" 

"Then what?" 

"Then we don't win the cup."

"That's it?"

"That's a pretty big deal Brittany." Santana said, narrowing her eyes. 

"Yeah well, you lose the cup so what?"

"So I'll have let everyone down!" Santana yelled, throwing her hands up. Brittany caught them, holding them tight in her hands. 

"Santana, you won't have done anything. They played two games before this, and you only played half of the last one. Winning the cup isn't on your shoulders alone, so if you lose, that's not on you either."

Santana's shoulders sagged. 

"Everyone thinks I'm some kind of secret weapon." She said quietly. "The best player on the team. The one who'll win them the match. I can't just pretend that's not true."

Brittany nodded, her lips pursed. 

"If I'd have died in the forest, would it have been your fault?"

Santana frowned, looking into Brittany's eyes. 

"What does that have to do with-"

"Just…." She squeezed Santana's hands. "Would it?"

"I guess not…"

"Because?"

Santana thought about it. 

"Because I'm not the one that sent you in there."

Brittany nodded. 

"You aren't the reason I was in there, so it wasn't your responsibility to save me. It was nice that you did, but if you'd failed, that wouldn't be your fault."

Santana's back straightened, her eyebrows raising slightly as she caught on to what Brittany was saying. She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. Brittany was smiling wide enough for the both of them. 

"You're saying that I'm not the one that put Slytherin in last place so it won't be my fault if we can't finish first."

Brittany squeezed her hands again, jumping excitedly as she nodded. 

"Exactly."

Not for the first time, Santana found herself marveling at the wonder that was Brittany. For a few seconds all she could do was stare, trying to figure out how Brittany could be real. She shook her head, chuckling, and gripped Brittany's hands tighter. 

"You're brilliant, you know that?"

Brittany stilled, her smile fading instantly. 

"I'm what?"

"Brilliant." Santana said again. 

"No I'm not." Brittany let her hands go and took a step back. "You're just saying that cause I made you feel better."

"With indisputable logic." Santana said, confused by Brittany's reaction. "You're a genius."

"Stop." Brittany folded her arms around her stomach and shook her head. "I'm not."

Santana frowned. Brittany actually looked upset by her words, which made no sense. Most people loved being told they were brilliant. Santana herself couldn't hear it enough and yet Brittany was taking it like she'd been insulted. She reached out to pull Brittany's hands away from her body. 

"Oh you didn't go far!" Sam came running out of the great hall and nearly collided with them. Brittany dropped her hands, spinning around to face him with a smile. Santana narrowed her eyes. "Look, under normal circumstances I would say that Slytherin doesn't stand a chance, but you're on the team, and we saw last game what you can do so maybe…" He shrugged. "I don't know maybe you can pull it off." 

With a final glance at Brittany, who was nodding enthusiastically, still smiling, with no trace of the sad look she'd just had on, Santana turned to Sam. 

"I guess we'll see." She said. "But I'm definitely not losing the match."

  *********************

Santana had never been more anxious in her entire life. Having now been in two life or death situations, she could say with certainty that she would rather be in danger than on the verge of the most important quidditch match she had ever played. Had she only played one game? Yes, but it had been sprung on her so she hadn't had any time to really get worked up. Now she had weeks of build-up, compounded by everyone patting her on the back, cheering her on as she walked by, giving her words of encouragement. She hated it. She wished they had no faith in her, at least then she wouldn't be carrying all their hopes and dreams. 

All morning she tried to remind herself what Brittany had said. It wasn't just on her. It wasn't her fault if they lost. 

That didn't change how she felt when she saw the poster some fifth years were carrying, with the words, 'Lopez for the win' written on it next to a drawing of Santana on a broom. 

"Oh my god." She groaned, taking a huge bite of a scone. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"Please don't." Quinn scooted away from her. 

"Might be better if you stop eating." Sebastian said. 

"Aren't you supposed to be telling me I need my strength?"

"Blowing chunks isn't going to help with that." Sebastian reached over the table and took Santana's plate. "Better be safe."

The entire great hall was buzzing like an upturned hornet's nest. Barely anyone was sitting still, with students running between tables, chatting loudly and excitedly about their match predictions. None of the professors attempted to bring order, in fact they too seemed more animated than normal. Professor Sprout was wearing a large bright yellow hat, talking with Hagrid, who was in red from head to toe. Professors Snape and McGonagall both wore their house scarfs, and professor Lupin had a pin flashing the words 'GO GRYFFINDOR GO' on his jacket. 

Santana bit her lip, turning back to her table. 

"This is a nightmare." She moaned. 

"You're going to lose if you don't get your head on right." Quinn said. "Here have some tea to calm you down." She handed Santana a cup. 

"That better be some kind of potion." Santana frowned at the cup. 

"I think that's against the rules." 

Santana turned to see Brittany standing behind her, both hands behind her back. 

"Oh you finally read the rules did you?" Santana chuckled.

"Maybe." Brittany shrugged, smiling. She looked nervously at Quinn then bent low so she was closer to Santana.

"I wanted to give you something before the match." She whispered. Santana raised a curious eyebrow. 

"What is it?"

"Come with me." Brittany straightened, turned, and walked out of the great hall. 

Santana lifted her legs over the bench, throwing a haphazard, "I'll be right back" over her shoulder at Quinn before following Brittany.

"Hey Santana, you're winning us that-"

"Yeah, yeah." She waved, without stopping, at the Slytherin who'd called out to her, picking up her pace as Brittany disappeared outside the door. 

Brittany was waiting for her at the end of the corridor, standing next to the main door with her hands still behind her back. 

"Is it something illegal or-"

"No." Brittany giggled. "Come here." She brought one hand forward to beckon Santana forward. Santana did so until her shoes bumped Brittany's. 

"Okay…don't laugh okay?"

"Okay."

"We figured you might need something you can go up there with…something that won't fall as you're flying…" Brittany rocked forward, then back, avoiding Santana's eyes. 

"Something for what?"

"To remind you that you're doing great." Brittany shrugged one shoulder. 

Santana smiled, despite her confusion. 

"Brittany what are you talking about?" she whispered. She saw Brittany swallow, then her hands came out in front of her, holding up a piece of string. 

"It was LT's idea." She rushed out. 

Santana took the string, lifting it up so it untangled. At the base hung a small square piece of paper, swinging gently. She gripped it with her other hand and turned it. 

"Lord Tubbington thinks your purrrrfect." She read aloud, fighting a laugh. She pressed her lips together and looked up at Brittany, who was blushing. "Britt…"

"He wanted me to give it to you."

Santana couldn't help it. A laugh bubbled out of her as she fixed the string over her head so the piece of paper rested over her chest. 

"Did he say that?"

"Yes." Brittany nodded adamantly. "He wouldn't let me sleep till I promised."

Santana tilted her head to the side, once again struck with the feeling that Brittany couldn't be real.

"Well tell him thanks for me will you?"

Brittany smiled. "You like it?"

"It's great." Santana chuckled, picking it to read the message again. "Purrrfect."

Brittany giggled, which to Santana sounded full of relief. 

"Great."

Suddenly the corridor was filled with dozens of students, all heading in their direction. Santana's stomach dropped like a stone. Somehow she had actually forgotten what was happening after breakfast. 

"Crap." She breathed. 

"I'll see you after." Brittany stepped away from her. Santana simply nodded. "You'll be great." She spotted Quinn and Sebastian walking out of the great hall, followed by Sam who was running towards them. 

"Come on Brittany. We have to get good seats." He grabbed Brittany's hand and tried to pull her with him as he whizzed past, but Brittany held her ground, jerking him backwards so that he almost fell. She leaned into Santana. 

"I'm rooting for you to win." She whispered, before allowing Sam to drag her out of the school.

  ****************

The entire team seemed to be filled with the same nerves as Santana. The changing room was deadly silent as they moved around getting changed into their quidditch robes. It was unnerving for Santana. She wished someone would say something, just to ease the tension. As it were she felt like her heart was seconds away from breaking her ribs, it was beating so hard. She bit her bottom lip incessantly, staring at the ground as she laced up her shoes and listening to the ruckus coming from the stands. She messed up the knot three times before managing to tie it off right. 

"It sounds like the whole of Britain is out there." Travis, their seeker, said in a shaky voice. A few of the others nodded. 

"Team, listen up." Daniels stood up, facing them all. "The situation is only hopeless if we let it get to us."

"Right." Cory, one of Santana's fellow chasers scoffed. "We just need a positive attitude and we got this."

"We would have this if Travis could catch the snitch for once." Mo, a fourth year beater muttered.

Santana was sure that if it weren't for Travis' dark complexion he would have turned red. 

"He doesn't have a choice." Daniels said. "We cannot win this game with over three hundred points. The only way we stand a chance is to be the ones who catch the snitch. He knows that."

Travis nodded, looking as sick as Santana felt. 

"Just remember to wait till we're fifty points up." Cory said. "Otherwise we won't win the cup."

"We've trained hard for this. We all know what we have to do. Go out there and give it your all. Play like your lives depend on it, cause the whole house is counting on us."

They heard Madam Hooch's whistle, then her voice projecting through the changing room, 

"All players to the pitch."

Santana stood up, picking her broom which had been on the floor beside her and trying to breath evenly. She was panicking now, if the slickness of her palms was any indication. Her brain barely registered the walk through the tunnel leading out to the pitch. All she could think about were Daniels' last words. The whole house was counting on them. They had posters with her name on it, with drawings of her. They were expecting her to win this for them. Not Travis, who had to catch the snitch, not Daniels, who had to make sure Gryffindor stayed off the score board. Her. Santana's mouth tasted like bile. They stopped at the end of the tunnel and Daniels told them to mount. She did so shakily, wondering if it were possible to have a heart attack from anxiety. It definitely felt like her heart was beating much faster than should be possible. A part of her hoped she would have a heart attack, then she wouldn't be able to play. 

"Ready?" Daniels called to the team. 

Santana saw a few people nod, she didn't. 

"Breathe." Amaya, the third year chaser who was standing beside Santana said. "If you pass out we definitely won't stand a chance."

Madam Hooch's whistle blew again. Santana gripped the neck of her broom, leaned forward, swallowed thickly, and kicked off the ground. 

  *************

Thirty minutes into the match, Santana was even more tightly wound than she had been before it started. The Gryffindor gameplay seemed to boil down to keeping her from scoring. They'd made only five attempts at scoring since the game started, because two of their chasers stayed glued to Santana's side at all times. But they didn't need to score, they just needed to catch the snitch. One hundred and fifty points was enough for them to win the cup. They knew their keeper wasn't as good as Huflepuff's, and Santana had nearly gotten more than one hundred and fifty points against her. So they were marking her. Blocking her from being able to get the quaffle, let alone try and score. 

It was infuriating.

"There's plenty of sky for you to fly in." Santana grumbled, jabbing her elbow into the Gryffindor chaser to her left. "Why don't you try it?"

"I like it here just fine." He sneered at her. Santana glared back. 

Things weren't looking good. The other two chasers had managed to score three goals so far, but Cory had been hit in the back of the head by a bludger and since then she'd been sluggish. Santana knew she needed to do something. She needed to break free of her two body guards and score enough goals to let Travis start looking for the snitch. 

She glanced at her opponents' brooms. One was a school broom, one was a nimbus 4000. Santana smirked. A good broom, but nowhere near as fast as her firebolt. 

"Alright." She said, rolling her shoulders. "Let's see if you can keep up."

She sped forward, weaving through the other players, dodged a bludger by swerving quickly to the side, then tilted her broom up and climbed higher. She could see the two chasers tailing her from the corner of her eye. Good, the thought. When they were high enough that they broke through a cloud, Santana slowed down enough to let them catch up with her, then she let go of her broom and let gravity pull her back down. She barked out a laugh as the two Gryffindor players shot past her, re-gripped her broom and flew back to the pitch. Amaya had the quaffle. Santana raised her hand, calling out to her. She looked relieved to see Santana. Catching the quaffle easily, Santana dodged another bludger, this one narrowly missing her head, put on a burst of speed and aimed straight for the highest goal post. She raised her hand, stopped her broom suddenly and let the momentum send the ball soaring straight through the post, so fast the Gryffindor chaser had no chance to react. 

Though she still knew they had a lot to do, finally being able to do something helped the tightness in her stomach ease a bit. The Gryffindor chasers bumped into her, first on her right, then her left, sneering at her. She smirked. 

"Wanna do that again?" She asked. 

Before they could answer, she veered right, towards the Slytherin stands. They cheered loudly for her as she flew leisurely past, Santana even spotted Quinn and Sebastian waving manically at her. She waved back. She kept it up long enough for the Gryffindor players to drift away from her, giving enough room for her to manoeuvre her broom. This time, she flew down, angling her broom into a steep dive. They were quick to follow her. 

"You're not getting away from us this time Lopez." One yelled at her. 

She kicked out suddenly, catching the player's thigh and sending him spinning as he tried to gain control. Placing just a little pressure on her broom, she turned right, forcing the other player to pull up to avoid her colliding with him. For a few seconds she remained on her side, gripping the broom with her legs. 

"Quaffle." She yelled, and again Amaya was ready. Santana caught it, rolled, then turned her broom a full one hundred and eighty degrees, speeding off in the opposite direction than she'd previously been flying. This time the two Gryffindors caught up to her faster, but it was still too late. She scored again, not giving the keeper the chance to even move. 

This time, amidst the cheers from the Slytherins, were shouts of 'catch the snitch!'. Santana swiveled round, looking frantically for Travis. Her heart skipped when she didn't immediately see him, thinking that maybe he'd already seen the snitch and was chasing after it. But then she caught sight of him, high above the pitch, head snapping left and right, and she knew. He had no idea where the snitch was, as per usual. 

The whistle blew suddenly, making her jump. 

"Time out, Gryffindor." Madam Hooch yelled. 

Santana watched the Gryffindor team all fly down to the ground with a growing sense of dread. Instead of flying down to try and eavesdrop as she so wanted to, she flew up to Travis, who looked close to tears. Apparently she wasn't the only one with that idea.

"You better catch that snitch as soon as the game resumes." Mo was saying to him.

"Yeah I have a feeling they're changing tactics." Santana said. 

"But I haven't seen it." Travis whimpered. "I never see it."

"Then stay close to the Gryffindor seeker." Mo said angrily. "If you can't see it for yourself you'll at least be right there when he does."

Santana nodded. That was actually a good idea. 

"And if he does see it." Santana said. "You beat those bludgers at him as many times as you need to to throw him off course. Give Travis a chance to get to it first."

Mo nodded. 

"In the meantime, try score more goals will you? Keep us fifty points up."

The whistle blew. As the Gryffindors flew up to position, Santana turned to the goal post, nodding. 

"You got it."

  ***************

"Foul!"

"I didn't realise you were such a delicate flower Jones."

"I'll show you delicate." He flew towards her, nearly colliding head on with her, but Santana swerved. 

"Hey, hey, what is going here?" Madam Hooch flew up to them. 

"Santana punched me."

"I never." Santana protested. 

"You're crying foul cause a first year girl punched you?" Mo laughed, swinging his bat. "Have some self-respect Jones."

"A foul is a foul, it's our quaffle."

"Like hell." Santana snapped. "Professor he's lying. Him and Becket have been hitting me all game-"

"Hitting you?" Jones asked incredulously. "All we did was fly close to you."

"Too close, so Madam Hooch wouldn't see. He just admitted it professor."

"There's no rule against flying too close to another player."

"Well if you fly too close to me and get nicked every time I move my arms, is that my fault?"

"Nicked." Jones scoffed. 

"Did anyone see Santana hitting Jones?" Madam Hooch asked. The Slytherins shook their heads. "Anyone?" she asked again, looking at the Gryffindor players. Reluctantly, they all shook their heads as well. "Alright then, Play on. Slytherin's quaffle."

Santana smugly snatched the quaffle from Jones, tucking it securely to her body. 

Things had only gotten more tense after the time out. Gryffindor team had in fact decided to change tactics. They were now trying to even the score board. Jones was still guarding Santana, but pulled away a few times to try score, which he had. They were now seventy-thirty. 

A pass to Cory was intercepted by the other Gryffindor chaser, Becket. It was now Santana's turn to tail them. 

"How does it feel knowing you're going to lose?" Jones asked, after dodging a bludger.

"Do you know how to count?" Santana asked, trying to get passed her to Becket. "Cause last I checked, seventy is higher than thirty."

"What about one fifty? Cause that's what we're going to get once we catch the snitch." Jones blocked Santana's second attempt to get around her. "Unless you actually think your useless seeker has a chance of catching it. He wouldn't be able to even if it flew right up his robes."

Becket scored. 

"Bloody yell." Santana groaned. "Daniels why don't you do your bleeding job?"

"Why don't you?"

"You're making it really hard."

She turned, in search of the quaffle, when something caught her eye. She squinted, flying closer to the professor's booth. 

"Dad?" She breathed. Sure enough, her dad was sitting next to professor Snape. 

"Santana!" 

She jolted, focusing in time to catch the quaffle being thrown to her. She had to fly around the stands, with no way through the three Gryffindors flying at her from all directions. Rather than emerging round the other side, where she was sure one of them would be waiting for her, she went over the top, pushing her broom faster. 

"Amaya!" she called, just as she passed the quaffle to her. Amaya caught it. "Go round the back then pass it to me." 

As Amaya took off in the direction of the goals, Santana felt an elbow jabbed sharply in her ribs. She cried out. 

"Who's committing fouls now?" She asked through gritted teeth. Pulling on her broom, she swerved around the back of Jones, leaned forward and pushed her broom to go as fast as possible. Amaya had just reached the back of the posts, and raised her hand to throw the quaffle. Santana nodded, putting on one last burst of speed. 

She got to the quaffle before it started to fall, and wasted no time in turning around and hitting it with the back of her broom. The Gryffindor keeper actually moved out of the way to avoid getting hit. Santana laughed, high fiving Amaya who had flown up to her. 

  *********************

Unfortunately, Gryffindor scored again, and then a second time quickly after thanks to a well times bludger by their beater that hit Daniels right in the stomach. He'd flown to the grown and thrown up right there on the pitch. Madam Hooch gave Slytherin a penalty, which Santana scored for them, but she was beginning to feel nervous again. This game was going on too long, and she knew the longer it went on, the less likely their chances of winning. As Daniels gingerly climbed back onto her broom, Santana sought out the string hanging from her neck, pulling out the paper from under her robes and reading it.

They wouldn't win if they kept trying to stay fifty points up. Gryffindor seeker would catch the snitch while they focused on scoring. She looked for Travis, finding him by the Gryffindor seeker as he'd been told to. Swallowing, she looked back down at the note. 

"It's not my fault." She told herself, as she tucked it back under her robes. 

"Trav." She called, beckoning the boy to her. He glanced at the Gryffindor seeker, but flew to her. 

"What's up?" he asked. 

"Get the snitch." She said. 

"What?" Travis frowned. "But we're only-"

"We're wasting time. We keep going back and forth, we score, then they score…." She shook her head. "Daniels isn't playing his part, and if we go on like this we're going to lose not just the cup but the game."

"So you're saying…"

"Catch the snitch."

Looking like he'd been sentenced to death, Travis nodded. 

Santana felt her heart weighing her down as she flew back to her position. All she could do was hope that the rest of the team understood her decision when they inevitably asked Travis what he'd been thinking. As for the rest of the house…she placed her hand over her chest, feeling the piece of paper resting against her skin. She'd just tell them the truth. Slytherin never had any chance of winning the cup. Not after losing so badly in their first game. They'd just have to try again next year. And get a new seeker. 

"And the race for the snitch is on!"

Santana whipped around, catching Travis and the Gryffindor seeker Ezekiel, speeding across the pitch. They were neck and neck, keeping pace with each other as they bobbed and weaved. Santana's pulse quickened. Everyone seemed to be watching the two players, holding their breath to see who would catch it. The stands were silent, the commentator was silent. Much like in the changing room, Santana wished someone would say something. 

Travis and Ezekiel disappeared behind the Gryffindor stand. As Santana waited for them to re-emerge, Brittany waving wildly caught her attention. She frowned, unconsciously drifting closer. Then she noticed what Brittany was doing; pointing towards the Gryffindor goal posts. 

Looking around, Santana realised that every player had stopped what they were doing, completely focused on the two seekers. That included the Gryffindor keeper, who was floating leisurely several feet from the posts, barely gripping his broom. 

She looked quickly at Travis. They seemed to be closing in on the snitch, since both had their hands stretched out in front of them. From her distance Santana couldn't tell who was ahead. 

Making up her mind, and feeling adrenaline coursing through her, Santana launched forward. She punched the quaffle out of Becket's idle hands, catching it easily. She didn't check if he followed her, concentrating on getting to the goal. She knocked one of the Gryffindor beaters out of her way, heard him shouting, but kept going. The crowd was loud again, with Slytherins cheering her on and the other houses trying to warn the keeper. He turned to look at her, startled by her rapid approach, but it was too late. By the time he started flying back to the goals, Santana had already thrown the quaffle. 

Suddenly, something collided with the back of her head, causing a pain so powerful it felt like her head had exploded. Santana slumped forward instantly, her eyes closing. The last thing she saw was the green grass of the pitch below before she lost consciousness.