The last detention session seemed to fly by really fast, considering the fact that the Weasley twins barely even spoke to her when they were at it. Florence was relieved, the thought of being free from detention gave her a somewhat unexplainable bliss that she was more than willing to feel. Everyone around her was moaning about how much homework they were going to do on the weekend, but Florence did not mind the amount of homework one bit.

Saturday morning started off with a lovely weather condition, the three friends going down to the Great Hall for breakfast, chatting about how great their Defense Classes were with Professor Lupin. Everyone seemed to like the new DADA teacher. Not only did you want to stay fully awake in his classes, he was also very encouraging to everyone, especially the slow learners. None from Ravenclaw, ofcourse.

Their whole week seemed to have been composed of nothing but studying, the first week of classes bringing a mountain heap of assignments and researches. Alexander and Nicolai had made it more interesting, though, turning it into a competition. The first one who could produce precise and accurate homework would get to win a basket full of Alexander's last supply of Sugar Quills, and three chocolate frogs, courtesy of Florence . Nicolai, being the only person who hadn't contributed a single thing in the consolation prize basket had won, making the other two groan.

"I simply cannot wait for the Hogsmeade visit this Saturday. I am running out of energy to keep going."

"Did you two notice how extra sour Snape was to everyone?" inquired Alexander, his eyes not tearing away from the merciless 20 inches of parchment essay that was given to them during Potions. It could have been likely that it was because they were in their O.W.Ls year that Snape had given them longer homeworks, but the way he snapped at almost every little thing made them think otherwise.

"I think he was a bit cranky because of Longbottom's boggart. Have you heard of it? Apparently it was in Lupin's class, taught them about Boggarts and made Neville conjure Snape in granny clothes." Nicolai said with a snigger, dipping her quill into ink before continuing her essay, "He's been giving Professor Lupin the daunting look... with about fifty percent more loathing."

"Well everybody likes Lupin more than him. I know I do." Alexander said, cracking his knuckles as he took a break from all his writing, Nicolai and Florence nodding in agreement. "Except for the Slytherins, ofcourse. They practically worship him."

"His essays are torture. Honestly, I would have already been at the pitch if it wasn't for this."

"Quidditch practice. On a Saturday, and you said yes?" muttered Nicolai as if she was a disappointed mum, because her friend had plans for this afternoon. Plans which didn't involve them.

"Well if I waited for Roger to reschedule our practices, he's going to make us double our laps around the pitch. Do you even know how bloody large the Quidditch pitch is?"

"But we had plans this afternoon," pouted Alexander, Florence's brows knitting together in confusion. "No, we don't. We haven't talked about what we're going to do."

"We could study by the Black Lake and help each other with out ridiculous amount of homework." "Yeah, but I can't do that today. Maybe tomorrow?" Florence suggested, both Nicolai and Alexander giving her a look. "Alexander has prefect duties. We won't get to bond as a complete trio." Nic reminded, making her smack the palm of her hand onto her temple. "Right. I forgot. Well, I'll make it up to you two. Maybe next Saturday?"

"You'll have practices again."

"Maybe not..?" Florence bit her upper lip as her two friends looked disappointed. She had never anticipated that she was going to be this busy on the fifth year. She didn't want Nicolai and Xander to feel like she didn't have time for them.

"Oh.. All right. I'll whip you up a batch of mint cookies tonight, just to make up for the time I can't spend with you two on the weekends." Xander and Nicolai both high-fived each other, "Not a word to anyone, okay?" "Alright, alright. We'll keep it to ourselves." Alexander reassured.

---
The one thing she missed about school was Quidditch. She loved wearing her blue and bronze quidditch jumper, complete with her Quidditch robes and gear, mounted on her broom and rippling through the skies.

"Price! About time, you're late!" said Roger Davies as soon as Florence had set foot onto the Quidditch field, dragging her flying broom along with her. She gave him a skeptical look as she pointed to the red and gold cladded Quidditch players still mounted on their brooms and flying around. "If I'm late, why are there still Gryffindors practicing?"

"Well," Roger began both hands on his hips as he glared at Oliver Wood from afar, "They've exceeded their booking time. It's been thirty minutes now. Wood won't get his players off the pitch."

"And you didn't tell him about it?" Roger was definitely not one to give way, especially not in Quidditch.

"Ofcourse I have! The bloke's already promised me five more minutes, six times! Chang and Stretton are over there by the stands, trying to calm Duncan down. He got hacked off the third time that Oliver's said five more minutes. He's going to have a go at Wood if they let him out of their sights."

"This is ridiculous," huffed Florence, whipping her wand out and pointing it at her mouth, "Sonorus."

"Hey Wood!" she called out, her voice echoing through the Quidditch pitch, catching the attention of the Gryffindor team captain as well as the two Gryffindor beaters who, Florence did not want to cross ever again in her whole life. She groaned as the Weasley twins were trailing behind Oliver, who made his way to her.

"It's been thirty minutes. Get your team off the pitch." Roger gritted irately as Oliver Wood neared them.

"Look, Freddie. It's Price." whispered George,
nudging his twin brother. "So it is. She looks a whole lot different in her Quidditch robes."

"You mean not too uptight?"

"Yeah. It has to be that."

Oliver scratched the back if his neck, hastily apologizing for taking too long, and asked for an extra ten minutes, making Roger frown. "No, Wood. You see Inglebee over there? He's going to pounce on you from up the stands if you don't clear the pitch in two minutes." By this time, all the other Gryffindors have stopped their practice, swooping back down to check on what the fuss was all about.

"Oliver, what's wrong?" Angelina Johnson, a fellow fifth year asked, eyeing Roger and Florence suspiciously. "Yeah, what are these Ravenclaws doing here?" asked a fourth year by the name of Katie Bell.

"You guys have exceeded your time by thirty minutes. We have to practice too, you know." Florence said, crossing her arms over her chest firmly. "We'd like to do it now, thank you very much."

"But your game isn't until November," the young Harry Potter interjected, his brows furrowed together, "Why would you possibly want to practice this early?"

"It's a matter of schedule, Potter," said Duncan, who was already down from the stands, the rest of the Ravenclaw team tagging along behind him, "Wood booked the pitch for the whole morning up to three. Roger booked the pitch from three to six. And it's three-thirty. It sure doesn't take a genius to understand that, right?"

"Duncan, don't." chastised Cho Chang quietly, before Madame Hooch had walked in to the scene.

"What is all this here?" The older witch inquired, stepping between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw team. "Davies, Wood, care to explain?"

"Wood's been extending his booking, Madame Hooch. He's been at it for thirty minutes." Roger explained, Madame Hooch nodded, acknowledging what he had just said before turning to Oliver who hung his head low even before he had gotten his blow, "And why is this so, Mr. Wood?"

"Pressure, Madame Hooch. My team and I wanted to practice especially hard today, so that we could nail our first match. We thought it would be alright to surmount the allotted time."

"The schedule is the schedule, Mr. Wood. Gryffindor had only booked the pitch until three, and you're supposed to be here no longer than the time period. Those are the rules, and as team captain, you should be well aware of that." Oliver nodded his head meekly, "I'm sorry, Madame Hooch."

"Apology accepted. Now clear out the pitch and keep your equipment. You will get to use the pitch the next time you get to book it." And with that, the Gryffindors had walked off the pitch, carrying their brooms with them as they headed to the showers to freshen up, Madame hooch following behind as soon as she gave Roger a few last instructions.

"Brooms out of the field by six. You got it, Davies?"

"Yes, ma'am."

After making sure that Madame Hooch was out of earshot, Roger turned to his team and grinned, the determination evident in his eyes. "Alright you guys, Ten laps around the pitch. Everyone should be done within the hour!" Everyone groaned, settling their brooms aside before jogging the whole perimeter of the field. A few other Ravenclaws were watching by the bleachers, including Nicolai and Alexander, who hooted and cheered every time Florence completed a lapse.

The sun was starting to set when they started to practice above ground, Florence, Jeremy Stretton and Roger practicing long range throwing, tossing it at the goal posts every once in a while to let Grant Page practice his defense. Duncan Inglebee and Jason Samuels were hitting bewitched balls —made out of layers and layer of paper— back and fourth from opposite sides. Cho on the other hand, had let the snitch fly about, and she was circling the pitch with a timer in hand, seeing how fast she could spot the golden ball and catch it.

Florence had been hit in the face three times by the bewitched paper ball before Roger had called for a five minute water break, thirst making her race to her water bottle, taking long and satisfying gulps.

"We've got to say, Price, you were pretty swift up there."

Florence jerked by the sudden voice, making her choke on the water that she was drinking. She coughed and wheezed violently, before looking up to see who it was that had caught her by surprise.

"I thought I made it clear that I do not want to see your faces ever again." she snapped, screwing the lid back on her bottle, chucking it in her bag. Fred and George both grinned in good-nature, despite the unwelcoming frown on dawned upon Florence's face. They were changed out of their Quidditch robes and gears, the two sporting ridiculously old looking jumpers. F inferably for Fred, and G for George. "Well you can't really help it, Price."

"Yeah, you see us at Herbology."

"And in Care of Magical Creatures—"

"—and Quidditch games—"

"Not upclose, that is!" she cut off, already immensely agitated by their presence. "And this is a Ravenclaw practice. You two are not supposed to be here." "Not supposed to be here, she said." Fred mocked, George chuckling in agreement, "That rule hardly exists, Price."

"I didn't know you were friends with the devil spawns." said Alexander sarcastically, as he and Nicolai descended from the top part of the bleachers. Florence chuckled lightly as the twins seemed to be intimidated by Alexander's tall frame and broad chest. The blonde haired boy with blue, deep set eyes truly did look daunting if you didn't know him that much.

"We aren't. We're not even on a first name basis." "Aren't you two supposed to be back in the castle? The pitch is exclusively for Ravenclaws at the moment." interjected Nicolai, wearing the same disapproving look on her face.

"Says who?" retorted George, Alexander sassily cocking an eyebrow at him, "Says us. Now shoo."

"Alright," shrugged Fred, not up for having a row with anyone. "Come on Georgie. By the way, Price, that was nice flying back there." he said, before the two climbed down the bleachers.

"That was nice flying there," Alexander mimicked, "I mean who do they think they are, approaching you like you guys are friends."

"Oh come on guys, don't be like that. I was rude to them because I thought they were going to try something that could get me into detention again."

"We're very territorial species, Alexander and I." said Nicolai, taking a towel and wiping sweat off Florence's face, "We like to keep our best friend to ourselves."

Florence snorted, "Well, you better believe it when I say that I am not planning to be their buddy buddy anytime soon."

"You better mean that."

"You two are nerds."

"So are you. Now go. I could foresee Roger beating you with a quaffle if you don't go down." Florence  laughed, hugging the two, "Alright. When we're done having dinner, we'll sneak into the kitchen so I could whip up those mint cookies that I promised you."

"This is why we're territorial." "Our little baking machine..."