[ nineteen, quidditch ]

[The next morning, in the great hall. The gang is sitting, eating. Aemma is twirling her food on a fork.]

Ron: Take a bit of toast, mate, go on.

Hermione: Ron's right, Aemma. You're gonna need your strength today.

Aemma: I'm not hungry.

Knowing Lucerys' habits better than anybody else, Rhaenyra glanced at Aemma. "It was the day of your first Quidditch match, was it not?" She queried, only to receive a nod in response. "You've always been a picky eater whenever you were nervous about something," She shared, her gaze distant as she recalled a time of peace and laughter. "Sometimes we had to coax you to eat by involving you in a bet, for we knew those were one of your weaknesses." It was a manipulative tactic, but it'd never failed to help her daughter accept some sustenance, no matter how little.

Ron smiled knowingly and smugly before eying the other boy in their companionship. "You might have had your bets, but we have our secret weapon here; she can never say no to him." Indeed, once they discovered Neville's power over Aemma, they'd convinced the boy to sit by them before every game to ensure she took proper care of herself, a feat only he seemed to succeed in.

[Snape appears at the table.]

Snape: Good luck today, Potter. Then again, now that you've proven yourself against a troll, a little game of Quidditch should be easy work for you. Even if it is against Slytherin. [Snape walks off, limping. Aemma notices this.]

"What a cunt," Baela scoffed, her dislike for the Potion Professor reaching a height usually only reserved for the Green faction. "What they did was impressive, and yet it means so little to him he sees it fit to taunt her on one of the most important days of her life. He's an adult, for Gods' sake, taking out his hatred and bitterness onto an innocent child." As she spoke her last sentence, she turned towards their enemies, initially piercing Alicent Hightower with a gaze that sent chills down her spine, only to spare Criston Cole and Otto Hightower the same judgemental sneer.

Readily recalling all the times Snape had made him feel small and terrified, Neville twisted his lips in a bitter grimace. "Oh, trust me; compared to his usual self, this is him being kind." Those who'd once loved Jacaerys had never heard so much hidden resentment in his voice, so much so it bordered on hatred. "The man had a talent for targeting children and making them feel utterly useless," Many who'd loved him in his previous life clenched their fists, anger simmering within them, for it was evident that he was speaking from experience.

Aemma: That explains the blood.

Hermione: Blood?

Aemma: Listen, last night, I'm guessing Snape let the troll in as a diversion so he could try and get past that 3 headed dog. But, he got himself bitten, that's why he's limping.

Whilst his daughter's trail of thought made sense, and he applauded her use of logic, there was still something nagging at Daemon's subconscious, something he couldn't let go of no matter how hard he tried: the possible involvement of Professor Quirrell. Life had long since taught him not to trust in one's mask but to look beyond it and to question everyone's intention and purpose. Snape's guilt might have been but a smokescreen, a perfect way for Quirrell to go undetected and reach its true purpose, whatever it might have been.

Hermione: But why would anyone go near that dog?

Aemma: The day I was at Gringotts, Hagrid took something out of one of the vaults. He said it was Hogwarts' business, very secret.

Hermione: So you're saying...

Aemma: That's what the dog's guarding. That's what Snape wants.

Rhaena was utterly flabbergasted by what she was hearing, for this was not what she was expecting when they began viewing the memories of her siblings. What should have only been a world of magic turned into one of intrigue and untold dangers, one where the enemy could be hiding in plain sight, and you'd never know until it was too late.

It pained Rhaena to see her siblings abandoning a life filled with strife and peril only to be reborn into another that could have become much worse and force them into positions no children their age should ever find themselves in. Would anyone have shielded them like their parents often did, or would they have allowed them to fight their battles regardless of how young they were? Something told her they would have become child soldiers, a reality she wasn't ready to accept.

[Hedwig screeches as she enters the Great Hall. She is carrying a very large, long parcel. She drops it off at the table.]

Hermione: Bit early for mail, isn't it?

Aemma: But I... I never get mail.

Hearing her utter those words deeply pained the Black faction, for Lucerys was beloved by them all, and, when still alive, she was often reminded of those feelings in whatever way they deemed appropriate. To think that Aemma, someone they'd come to care about as much as their fallen family member, had grown accustomed to not being wanted or loved both enraged and saddened them greatly, for the girl deserved all the kindness and tenderness in the known world.

Silently, those who'd come to care about Aemma vowed to spoil her as much as she'd allowed them and to show her that not only did she invoke fondness and pride, but she was deserving of those feelings as well.

Ron: Let's open it.

[They open it to reveal a broomstick.]

Aemma: It's a broomstick!

Ron: Thats not just any broomstick, Aemma. [recognizing the model] It's a Nimbus 2000!

Aemma: But who...?

[She notices Professor McGonagall up at the head table, stroking Hedwig. She smiles and Aemma nods.]

A bewildered Alicent stared at the screen judgmentally, unable to summon even an ounce of joy for the orphan who'd never received anything beforehand aside from her beloved Hedwig. "Taking shortcuts in life just like her mother," She all but sneered. "Cheating must run in your blood, after all." She continued, taunting Rhaenyra.

"You'd know all about cheating, wouldn't you, Alicent? After all, Aegon didn't crown himself king." Rhaenys bit back as she stared disgustedly at the woman who seized the first opportunity to see her blood on the Throne. "You didn't even question my cousin's words or consider his hailing mind, for all you desired was to see Aegon sitting on the Iron Throne, a position he had no interest in, not that you ever cared about his needs and wants." She was still disgusted by how the former queen mothered half her children, showing them little to interest whatsoever unless it suited her plans and often resorting to violence to the point these individuals had either become numb or frightened of her.

Unwilling to delve into political matters, Ron shrugged. "Just because it was unheard of, it doesn't mean what McGonagall did was against the rules," He pointed out helpfully. "You'd be surprised how many people have done similar things to give an advantage to their House Team." His mind wandered to Malfoy and how he all but bought his position on his Team, something the Greens, scheming and dishonourable as they were, would most likely approve of.

Meanwhile, regardless of the reasoning behind the gift, Corlys couldn't help but be thankful towards the Professor who'd extended such kindness to his granddaughter, presenting her with her second actual material possession that she didn't either buy herself or inherit from her cousin. He'd never forget her continuous kindness and care towards Aemma, for it was obviously done without an agenda.

[Later on, inside a Quidditch tower, the Gryffindor team is marching toward the starting gate. They reach it and stop, behind a closed double door.]

Magic, thus far, had been a new and exciting concept for Daemon, yet this was the first time it'd given him any sense of deja vu, for the way the Gryffindor Team moved reminded him of how a battalion did in preparation for an attack. Their once sense of bemusement had now translated into a serious demeanour, their body poised to jump in action beside their broomsticks; meantime, the air of anticipation was so thick it could be felt even within the room itself.

He'd never admit it out loud, for he didn't wish to further upset his wife, but even the simple atmosphere preceding a game of Quidditch caused him to develop a certain level of interest in the sport, one that promised to be just as hectic as a tournament yet blessedly missing the pompous individuals who only partook in it to bring glory to their Family.

Aware of his daughter's abilities, he wasn't shocked to see her amongst the players, for Lucerys had always belonged in the air as much as Daemon did. He was curious, however, to see the skills of her reincarnation, for no matter how much he loved her the same, he had to keep reminding himself that Aemma wasn't the identical girl he'd helped raise these past few years.

Oliver: Scared, Aemma?

Aemma: A little.

Oliver: That's all right. I felt the same way before my first game.

Aemma: What happened?

Oliver: Er, I don't really remember. I took a Bludger to the head two minutes in. Woke up in the hospital a week later.

A choked sound escaped Rhaenyra's lips. The worries she'd managed to keep contained thus far suddenly enveloped her like thick fur and impeded her normal breathing patterns. As she clung to her dress, she tried to dispel the picture of her daughter being in Oliver's shoes, one of the many worst-case scenarios her mind had unhelpfully concocted. However, try as she might, all she kept on seeing was her sweet girl falling from such incredible heights with nothing slowing her descent.

Almost as if she'd read her mind, Aemma turned towards her previous mother. "Don't worry, that only happened because Fred and George weren't on the Team yet; they really were the best Beaters Gryffindor had seen in decades," She said soothingly, yet failed to mask her excitement as she gazed at Rhaenyra the same way Lucerys used to whenever she'd learnt a new trick on Arrax.

Nevertheless, Aemma's words aided the newly crowned queen, for there must have been a reason for her daughter to trust the twins with her life. Ever so slowly, the heavy anxiety that had taken root within Rhaenyra began to disappear, leaving behind an echo of what it had once been.

[Aemma gulps and looks straight ahead as the doors open. They mount their brooms and zoom out onto the enormous pitch. There is cheering. Lee Jordan, the Quidditch commentator, is announcing from a tower.]

Lee: Hello! And welcome to Hogwarts' first Quidditch game of the season! Today's game, Slytherin vs. Gryffindor!

[There is a close-up of Gryffindor students cheering.]

Neville: Gryffindor! Go Aemma!

The game had yet to start, but the atmosphere was so infectious that an excited thrill went down multiple people's backs. Until now, they'd had doubts about a game such as Quidditch, and yet here they were: just as exhilarated as the rest of the crowd present for the match, even if they knew very little about what was to come.

Amongst the thrilled individuals was Aegon Targaryen, someone who'd always appreciated tourneys to a certain extent yet found them dreadfully repetitive. Even if the game had yet to begin, he already knew there was no comparison between Quidditch and a tourney, and he thanked the Gods above for that, for maybe he just found something of his own, something to be genuinely passionate about.

With this in mind and refusing to miss even a second of the play, Aegon placed his goblet on a nearby table. He was aware of all the odd looks he was receiving due to his uncharacteristic behaviour, yet he couldn't care less about what people thought about him; after all, he'd spent his whole life making sure to destroy his reputation so he couldn't be used as a pawn to usurp his sister ( not that it aided him whatsoever in the end ).

[The players take their positions in the air in a circle. Aemma weaves in, highest amongst. She looks down.]

Lee: The players take their positions as Madam Hooch steps out onto the field to begin the game!

Hooch: Now, I want a nice, clean game from all of you! [looks at Slytherin. She kicks the trunk, and the Bludgers zoom out.]

Lee: The Bludgers are up, followed by the Golden Snitch. Remember, the Snitch is worth 150 points. The Seeker who catches the Snitch ends the game.

[The Snitch zooms around each Seeker's head, then disappears. Hooch grabs the Quaffle.]

Leaning forward in a vain attempt to follow the Golden Snitch in the air, Daeron exhaled frustratingly when all he, alongside others, could see was a golden blur. However, upon closer inspection, he noted that his niece was keeping a close eye on something that soon flew past her reach; it appeared she was the only one amongst them capable of seeing something that moved at an unbelievable speed. "How can you even see it?" He queried, curious to unearth this uncanny ability of hers.

A sad smile tugged at Aemma's lips as she turned towards her former uncle. "I think you know why," She simply stated, unwilling to delve deeper into her life with the Dursleys and how much she learned by living with them out of self-preservation. Most people must have understood what she'd implied, for they stilled in their seats, features morphing in anger as they stared ahead and clung to one another either to anchor themselves back to the current reality or to hold back their true wrath.

Lee: The Quaffle is released and the game begins!

[Gryffindor takes possession of the ball and a chaser, Angelia Johnson, zooms past the Slytherins towards their goal, and throws the ball, and scores! There is a ding.]

Lee: Angelina Johnson scores! 10 points for Gryffindor! [He presses a button and a 10 shows up beside a plaque with Gryffindor's name.]

[Aemma, in the air, claps.]

Aemma: Yes! [A Bludger suddenly zooms by her.] Whoa!

As someone utterly disinterested in the game currently played on the screen, Alicent scoffed and raised an eyebrow before questioning Rhaenyra's spawn. "Why are you standing still and not doing what you're supposed to be doing?" Her annoyance towards the girl, be it her younger self or the girl in the room, couldn't be masked no matter how hard she tried. How could she gaze upon her any differently if each time she looked at her, all she saw was a fractured bond of friendship and a parallel between herself and Rhaenyra through their children?

( She refused to think about the fact that said friendship had been fractured when her son had threatened her life, hand squeezing her throat until she could barely breathe and a rock held above her head, only to then do the same to her brother )

Hermione might not have been the most enthusiastic fan of Quidditch, but she appreciated the strategy behind each play. "She's following her Captain's strategy: had she gone for the Snitch too early, she could have cost Gryffindor the game. This isn't a game of chances, but one with countless plans of action for every game, and each player has to follow their designated role if they want to win." She'd never admit it to a single soul, but she'd even aided Aemma a couple times by brainstorming with the rest of the group, and she'd enjoyed it. Perhaps Quidditch was not for her, but there was a certain beauty in strategising against other teams, one that brought out her competitiveness.

[In the stands, Gryffindor cheers.]

Hagrid: Well done!

Lee: Slytherin takes possession of the Quaffle. Bletchley passes to Captain Marcus Flint.

[Flint dodges people and throws for the Gryffindor hoops. Oliver appears and whacks the ball away with his broom. He smirks at Flint, who glares.]

Living on Dragonstone and being the child of the Rogue Prince limited one's possibility of interacting with anyone they might find remotely interesting, for who, in their sound mind, would approach one of Daemon Targaryen's daughters harbouring any interest that went beyond the platonic? Unlike Baela, Rhaena had been sheltered in said matters, often dreaming of what it'd feel like to develop an interest in anyone beyond the familiar.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that the moment her eyes fell upon Oliver Wood, and she witnessed him in action, a blush began spreading across her cheeks, and a smile tugged at her lips. "The Gryffindor's Captain is certainly very capable," she whispered to her twin, hoping her flustered state went unnoticed.

In a bid to tease her twin, Baela smirked and elbowed her slightly. "I think you meant to say 'quite pleasing to the eye'," She taunted her, completely disregarding her tone of voice, for she didn't see anything shameful in feeling attracted to another individual, nor had she been raised by someone who could sometimes come across as overbearing and overprotective as Daemon.

Hermione and Aemma burst into laughter upon hearing the twin's comment, for it was almost a rite of passage for many to develop feelings for either Oliver Wood or Cedric Diggory, and it appeared the Targaryen twins were not immune to their charms, unlike the two best friends.

[Johnson and Katie Bell pass the Quaffle back and forth as they strategize to score. Johnson takes it, throws, and once again scores!]

Ron and Seamus: Yay!

Aemma: Yes!

Lee: Another 10 points to Gryffindor! [he adds another 10 to the score with a ding.]

Gryffindors: Yay!

[The Slytherins decide to get messy. They dodge, kick, and try to score. Once again, Oliver blocks.]

Flint: Give me that! [he grabs a beaters bat from one and whacks a Bludger right at Oliver. It hits Oliver directly in the stomach and he plummets to the ground, knocked out.]

Viserys frowned at what he had just witnessed; pure cruelty and the desire to win a match by all means necessary, even cheating. "Shouldn't that be considered against the rules?" He queried, all the while worried for the boy's wellbeing.

Neville shrugged nonchalantly, albeit annoyedly. "We never said Quidditch was a fair game, especially regarding Slytherin," He stated bitterly. "I'm surprised their underhanded tactics don't remind you of anyone you know," He said, looking meaningfully at the man who'd once been his grandfather yet now only managed to irk him due to his long list of failures as king.

To most people, he might have looked utterly unbothered by what the bastard had just said, yet Otto was silently seething within, for how dare he judge them when their existence as a whole was an insult to the Crown itself? Everything Otto had done was for the betterment of his family but also to spare Westeros the insult of first crowning a woman and then a bastard who didn't deserve the name that'd been bestowed upon him. They had no room for judgement when Aegon was the rightful king, and the Gods proved it by ridding the world of two menaces.

[This causes the entire audience to boo; Aemma is visibly upset as the Slytherins laugh. The Slytherin members head off. One jumps over George (or Fred) and scores. Lee adds 10 points to the plaque with Slytherin's name. Aemma is upset again. Slytherin cheers.]

Flint: [to his teammates] Take that side!

[They box Johnson in and send her into the capes covering one of the towers. She falls down and is out. The crowd boos. Slytherin scores once again.]

The chorus of negative expletives had soon extended to the viewing room, most of the individuals so taken with the game of Quidditch that one might have mistaken them for those gathered in the stands. The initial apprehension had slowly ebbed away, leaving only sheer excitement, pure wonder, and adrenaline in its wake. Close to nobody cared that broomsticks were used anymore, some even wondering what it'd feel like to play such a perilous yet thrilling sport.

'If only magic ran through my veins,' Damon pondered. 'I'd stop wasting my time with tournaments and enjoy the thrill of such a game' His daughter's passion made sense now, for the sport called to him with the same intensity his child had displayed when speaking about it. It was perfectly tailored for those with the blood of the dragon, those who couldn't remain earthbound for long, who lived for the thrill of flying, never tired of experimenting in the air, and with courage aplenty to do all this with no security in place.

[Suddenly, Aemma sees the Snitch. She starts to head off after it and then suddenly her broom starts bucking and turning.]

Rhaenys suddenly stilled, reminiscing everything they'd been told regarding broomsticks and their behaviour, not to mention how only a tampered one would act as it initially did with Neville and now with Aemma. "Someone is doing this to her. Am I correct in my assumption?" She queried, frightened for her granddaughter's wellbeing, for, once again, her life was in peril, and this time, she'd have to face such danger on her own.

A sullen-looking Neville turned towards his former grandmother, silently cursing the contract they'd signed with Death, for there was only so much they could share with the Westerosi citizens. "Oh, someone is targeting her, alright," He muttered bitterly, aware he couldn't say anything more to quell the woman's growing anxiety and feeling wretched for it.

Aemma: Whoa! Whooa!

Hagrid: What's going on with Aemma's broomstick?

[Hermione looks through binoculars at Aemma, then at Snape, who is visibly muttering.]

Hermione: It's Snape! He's jinxing the broom!

Aemond's pride might have called for him to celebrate that he'd been right all along about the Potion Professor, yet his feelings towards his beloved dampened such emotion. Fear, unlike any other, began to course through his veins at the mere prospect of Aemma suffering a life-altering injury or worse, and all because of a man with a hidden plan and agenda.

He knew he wasn't alone in experiencing a bout of wrath due to what was unfolding on the screen, but at least Aemond had his emotions to blame, feelings for the otherworldly-looking girl he'd never been able to shake no matter how much he tried.

What surprised him was that several members of his faction appeared to be just as upset as Aemond was. Without considering Daeron and Helaena, for they were truly lost to them, Aemond noted that both his mother and Aegon seemed severely bothered by what was happening on the screen, his mother going as far as praying whilst his brother cast aside his drink. Did Aemma do what Lucerys could never do, pierce their barriers and reach their hearts?

Ron: Jinxing the broom? What do we do?

Hermione: Leave it to me. [She hands Ron her binoculars and leaves the stands.]

[Aemma is knocked and thrown around, then falls, dangling by one arm from the broom.]

Rhaenyra looked almost faint, her heart clenching so painfully in her chest that she brought a hand atop it in a vain attempt to soothe the pain. "My Aemma," Her name sounded like a prayer, a fearful beseeching from a mother to the Gods to be merciful and allow her to overcome this obstacle unscathed. These Beings had taken her from her and used her as their martyr and puppet; the least they could do was look after her in her new life and prevent her from suffering more than she already had.

Contrary to popular belief, Helaena didn't See everything, only what the Gods deemed necessary, and thus, she hadn't foretold what would have happened to her niece during her first game. Her body shook as she stared at the screen, terrified and unable to imagine what would have coursed through Aemma's mind at that given time: was she just as afraid as the rest of them? Was adrenaline and her unwavering determination telling her she would have pushed through? Or, like many with the blood of the dragon, did she refuse to allow one palsy setback to prevent her from playing? Helaena didn't need to be a Dreamer to make the educated guess that all three options applied to her niece, for even if they were never close, there'd been a time Helaena had known her as a friend.

Ron: [concerned] Come on, Hermione!

[Hermione is hurrying up in the tower structures. She appears underneath Snape and touches his cloak with her wand.]

Hermione: [quietly] Lacarnum Inflamarae.

[A spark ignites and Snape's cloak catches fire. Hermione quickly leaves.]

Man: Fire! You're on fire!

Snape: What? Oh! [knocks the man back, who falls into Quirrell, who then also falls. Snape bats out the fire and acts as though nothing happened. The broom stops bucking, and Aemma climbs back on.]

A thunderous applause echoed around the room as multiple individuals congratulated Hermione's quick thinking and magical prowess, causing the witch to smile sheepishly as her cheeks pinkened.

Alongside Aemma's parents, Corlys was the loudest to celebrate Hermione's feat. "You shall always be welcome to Driftmark, for you just saved the life of one of my grandchildren without hesitation," He declared while his wife nodded along.

It was nigh on impossible to find someone in Westeros, besides kin ( and even that was debatable ), who would have saved another's life because they cared about said person and weren't driven by any hidden designs or agendas. Thus, it was no wonder Corlys quickly came to appreciate the small group that would have one day been known as the Golden Trio, for their loyalty and protectiveness of each other knew no bounds, and they'd only just met.

Just as taken by Hermione's actions, Daeron nodded appreciatively towards her. "That was extremely clever of you; no one would have suspected a First Year, let alone someone so bound by the rules to unleash that type of chaos," He praised her, for that was what he used to do as a child whenever he wanted to uncover what was being kept from him or read Lucerys' letters before his kin cruelly burnt them.

( Given the furious glare of his grandsire, he'd finally been caught, but it mattered little to him now that he was finally free )

[The Slytherin seeker is after the Snitch. Aemma takes off.]

Ron: Go!

Hagrid: Go, go, go!

[Aemma rams the Slytherin Seeker, then is butted out. She returns, smashing the Seeker again as the Snitch dives. They both follow, but they approach the ground quickly.]

To her shame, Rhaenys hadn't seen Lucerys on dragonback as often as she would have liked, but witnessing Aemma in the sky now filled her with pride, for she seemed to be entirely at ease in the air, a natural flyer. Her skills couldn't be debated, for she moved as flawlessly through the air as a seasoned dancer did on the ground, her recklessness paying off as she faced her opponent without fear on her visage. It was an image Rhaenys would never forget, yet she wished she could be amongst the crowd to cheer her granddaughter on.

[The Slytherin Seeker backs out, and Aemma pulls up her broom as she follows the Snitch, feet above the ground. Aemma stands up, and steps forward, trying to grab the ball.]

Although both strong in their own ways, the twins sought fortitude in each other as their sister's fearlessness reared its head yet again, putting her in peril due to her actions. As Rhaena's eyes fluttered shut in an attempt to block the image from her mind, Baela gritted her teeth and allowed her sister's hold on her to grow almost painful, welcoming the feeling in an attempt to banish the fear festering in her heart as she witnessed Aemma pull a stunt no one in their right minds would ever attempt.

Of course, they were both aware that everything would eventually be fine, for Aemma was amongst them, alive and hale, yet this didn't lessen the dismay they both experienced upon seeing Aemma push the boundaries on something that lacked any safety harnesses.

[She goes too far, and topples off the broom with a yelp, tumbling on the ground. She gets up and lurches. The crowd gasps. Hermione appears beside a tower to see.]

"My poor girl," Rhaenyra moaned sadly, wishing she could engulf her in her arms and reassure her just as she used to when she was still a young child, seeking her mother for comfort. "I cannot bear to see her hurt," She told Daemon, who promptly hugged her closer to soothe her apprehension and pain.

Aegon couldn't help but laugh at the picture on the screen. He knew he was no saint, and just because he admired the two female witches, it didn't mean they'd be exempt from his personal brand of taunting, just that it'd lack any malice. "You paint quite a picture, dear niece," He guffawed.

Many in the room expected Aemma to feel insulted or at least answer with a barb that would have silenced her uncle; they would have never pictured her matching his taunting words. "Well, looking at you, I guess it must be biological." She roguishly grinned back, causing a few people to laugh, Aegon included.

Her former uncle's playful slight was nothing compared to the cutting remarks Aemma had collected throughout the years, words that left her bleeding on the inside.

Hagrid: Looks like she's gonna be sick!

[Aemma lurches and the Snitch pops out of her mouth. It lands in her hands.]

Several individuals turned, absolutely gobsmacked, towards Aemma, who simply shrugged in response, for she couldn't answer their questions regarding how she caught her first Snitch besides pure luck ( a rare occurrence in her life, often characterised by unfortunate events ).

Lee: She's got the Snitch! Aemma Potter receives 150 points for catching the Snitch!

Hooch: [Blows her whistle whilst riding on her broomstick] Gryffindor wins!

[The crowd cheers in joy including Gryffindor]

Soon enough, most people in the viewing room had joined in the cheers and chanting of 'Gryffindor', the joy of those present for the match infectious enough to wash away any and all worries there might have been towards the end.

The smug smile on Daemon's face as he looked at the Greens irked many of them, yet he couldn't care less, for his daughter hadn't just come out victorious; she'd aided her Team in winning the match by demonstrating an impressive level of skill for someone her age, someone who'd never played beforehand. Truthfully, he wouldn't be surprised if Aemma eventually became one of the best Seekers of her generation given more time and training, for she showed just as much potential as she did as a dragonback rider.

Draco: [dismayed] No!

Hagrid: Yes!

Hermione: Whoo-hoo!

[McGonagall giggles happily. Aemma raises the Snitch into the air and the crowd, and her team, cheers.]

As much as a part of her would never grow used to Quidditch and how perilous the sport was, the smile on her sweet girl's face was infectious, and she couldn't help but smile back at the memory on the screen, for that girl wasn't haunted by her past, nor forever reminded of it or constantly scrutinised and expected to live up to certain expectations people had come up with throughout the years. No, that girl was her Aemma, her darling daughter doing what she loved most and sharing her happiness with others as she'd always done. Silently, Rhaenyra vowed she'd try to find Quidditch as entertaining as she did, for it was apparent that it was only while playing it that Aemma felt genuinely free.

Crowd: Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor!

author's note.      As you might have noticed, I combined two chapters into one because the second one would have otherwise been far too short. This won't be the first time I'll combine chapters ( and make them slightly longer ), and I hope you won't mind.