Taming the True Fire (HP)

"You ready, Flame?" – Sirius asked, ruffling Catherine's hair as they slipped into their red Quidditch robes.

"Sure!" – the girl smiled and grabbed her broom – "We should try the Hawkshead Attacking Formation today. I think we finally nailed it during our last practice."

"We can but I'm not sure we're going to have time." – the young wizard chuckled, adjusting his gloves – "The new Seeker of Hufflepuff doesn't stand a chance against James."

"She definitely doesn't!" – James called out, a smug grin spreading across his face.

"Great!" – Sirius smirked – "Marianne and I made a bet with each other on the result of the game, so we just have to win!"

"Of course! My biggest motivation in life is to help you rub it in Marianne's face!" – James snorted.

"That's exactly what I'm counting on!" – the other boy chuckled, as Catherine felt her own face flush, uncertain whether it was from embarrassment or irritation. 

The Gryffindor team entered the Quidditch pitch to the cheers of the crowd. The weather was dry and cold, and if not for the wind, the conditions would have been perfect.

The match kicked off with a roar from the crowd, players rocketing into the sky as Madam Hooch released the Quaffle. The Gryffindor Chasers immediately seized control, with Sirius clutching the Quaffle under his arm as they sped forward. Without missing a beat, they snapped into the Hawkshead Attack Formation, a tight arrowhead arrangement that left little room for error. Hufflepuff's Chasers—Philippa Finch, Daisy Diggory, and Owen Spinnet—scrambled to break through, but the Gryffindors' quick, seamless passing made it almost impossible, the Quaffle zipping through the air like a red blur as they pushed closer to the Hufflepuff goalposts.

Sirius deftly dodged a Bludger sent hurtling his way by Leif Thornton, spinning sharply to the left and ducking as it whizzed inches past his ear. At the same time, Catherine and Scarlett executed a series of feints, throwing the Hufflepuff defence into utter chaos. Scarlett then launched the Quaffle toward Catherine with a swift overhead pass, just as another Bludger barrelled toward them. Marvolo Wood intercepted it at the last second, deflecting it with a resounding crack.

Keegan Macmillan, the Hufflepuff Keeper, braced himself as Catherine surged forward, eyes locked on the goalposts. With a powerful flick of her wrist, she sent the Quaffle rocketing past Keegan's outstretched fingers, scoring Gryffindor's first goal. The stands erupted in cheers, but there was no time for celebration. The Gryffindor Chasers immediately regrouped, maintaining relentless pressure to keep the momentum.

On defence, Greg McMahon was an impenetrable wall.. With razor-sharp reflexes, he swerved in front of the hoops, batting away shot after shot from the Hufflepuff Chasers. Owen Spinnet attempted a fast break with a Sloth Grip Roll to dodge a Bludger, but Greg anticipated his aim and blocked the shot with a spectacular leap, maintaining Gryffindor's lead.

The match intensified as Sirius narrowly avoided a second Bludger, creating an opening for Scarlett to snatch up the Quaffle and pass it back to Catherine, keeping the game firmly in Gryffindor's grasp.

Then, suddenly, James Potter's eyes caught a glimmer near the far end of the pitch—the Golden Snitch! Flattening himself against his broom, he shot forward in a blur. Rosalind Sloane, Hufflepuff's Seeker, spotted it too and darted after him. The crowd held its breath as the two Seekers weaved between players, expertly dodging Bludgers in a heart-stopping chase.

Just as it seemed the Snitch might escape, James executed a jaw-dropping dive, reaching out with his hand in a blur of motion. His fingers closed around the Snitch, yanking it out of the air in a stunning catch that brought the entire stadium to its feet.

Gryffindor had won, securing the match in a record 15 minutes. The Hufflepuff team hovered in disbelief as their opponents erupted in celebration. It had been a whirlwind of a game in which James Potter's spectacular catch sealed their victory, and his House's hopes for finally winning the Quidditch Cup.

Landing on the ground, Catherine still felt adrenaline surging through her veins. The Pitch was quickly swarmed with students eager to congratulate the team. The air buzzed with excitement, and Sirius, grinning ear to ear, immediately went to hug Marianne, who looked slightly pouty but not enough to push him away. The young witch watched them for a moment, her stomach tightening as they kissed passionately, egged on by the crowd. She forced herself to look away, a bitter realisation settling in: Sirius hadn't hugged her as he usually did after a victory.

'I can't believe that after all the times I told him to stop touching me without permission, I actually miss it.' – the girl thought, her lips curling into a sad, self-mocking smile. Any desire to celebrate evaporated. She headed to the changing room, dragging out her shower to ensure she was the last one left.

When she finally stepped out, she glanced at the small, foggy mirror on the wall and sighed. She had been avoiding her reflection ever since Snape hexed off her hair, but recent events made it impossible to escape her insecurities. A quiet, nagging voice echoed in her mind: You're just too ugly for anyone to like you. The whole school had been abuzz with rumours that Sirius Black only had eyes for her, and yet now, he seemed utterly obsessed with being as close to Marianne as possible.

Catherine had always dismissed Sirius's flirtations as nothing more than a playful quirk of their friendship, but somewhere along the line, she'd started to believe that maybe he fancied her. His attention had been an incredible boost to her confidence. Now, though, it was gone, and the Slytherins had wasted no time mocking her about it. That didn't sting as much as the truth of it: she wasn't the one Sirius wanted.

The young witch swallowed the lump in her throat as she faced the reality she had been trying to ignore. She was jealous of Marianne. She missed Sirius's attention, the way he used to be around her. But compared to Marianne, Catherine felt like she didn't even measure up. Her gaze dropped to her own reflection, to the thin, childlike frame staring back at her. She had grown painfully aware of how much weight she'd lost, her figure devoid of anything remotely "womanly." Even the sports bra she'd bought seemed pointless; there was nothing to fill it out.

'I don't even have my period yet.' - she thought in despair, hurriedly pulling on her clothes, desperate to cover up - 'Maybe Sirius always saw me as a sister. Or maybe he liked me back in our first years, but now… he's outgrown me.'

Feeling utterly depressed, Catherine left the changing room, her feet dragging as she made her way back to the castle. But halfway there, she stopped, the thought of facing her teammates and their celebrations too unbearable. With a heavy sigh, she turned away from the path, wandering down to the quiet shore of the Black Lake. She sat on the cool, damp grass, staring blankly at the dark waters. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she brushed them away impatiently, though they kept falling as she sank deeper into her thoughts.

Quite some time had passed when Catherine felt a hand on her shoulder. She lifted her head to find James standing over her, concern etched on his face.

"Have you been crying?" – he asked, softly, his hand brushing against her cheek – "Merlin! Your skin is ice-cold! How long have you been sitting out here?"

"I don't know." – the girl shrugged – "I came right after the match."

"It's not like you missed anything." – James muttered, forcing a bitter smile – "Same party as always, except now it's just an excuse for people to shove their relationships in your face."

"Hence why you're here." – Catherine said, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"No!" - James replied, blushing slightly - "I'm here because I was worried about you—and I figured you wouldn't want to be around certain… displays."

"So you came here to support me and distract yourself from certain other displays?" – the girl teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Alright, fine!" - he admitted, letting out a huff - "I'm angry, and I don't want to snap and make Lily think I'm as bad as Snape. But it's not easy. I was honestly hoping to find someone to hex on my way here, but no luck. Hey! You know what? How about a duel? I bet you could use a way to blow off some steam too." "I don't know, James." – Catherine sighed, rubbing her temples – "I've been really tired lately. It's probably not the best idea."

"Oh, come on!" – the boy urged, flashing her a mischievous grin – "You're stronger than half the people at Hogwarts, even if you're half-asleep. I really need this, Flame!"

With a groan of frustration, Catherine pushed herself to her feet, her legs heavy and stiff from sitting on the cold ground for so long. "Fine." - she muttered, shooting him an exasperated look.

James beamed, leading the way to their usual duelling spot on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was isolated, spacious, and flat enough that they didn't have to worry about tripping over stray roots or uneven ground. The air around them was crisp and quiet, the faint rustling of leaves the only sound.

The sun had dipped low over the treetops, casting long shadows across the clearing. James and Catherine stood a few paces apart, their wands raised.

James moved first. With a flourish of his wand, he shouted, "Expelliarmus!" The spell zipped through the air, crimson and crackling, but Catherine was ready. She twisted to the side, her own wand a blur as she cast a shield charm. The spell rebounded harmlessly off her shield, leaving the dead grass behind her singed and soldering.

"Is that all you've got?" - she taunted, her voice steady despite the beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her classmate grinned back, eyes alight with the thrill of the duel.

"You wish!" - he replied, flicking his wand in a rapid sequence - "Stupefy! Stupefy!" Red bolts burst forth, zigzagging towards Catherine. She ducked and spun, her own wand a whirl of motion as she sent a barrage of spells in response.

"Protego Maxima!" - she cried, her shield expanding in a shimmering arc. It deflected his spells, sending flashes of light erupting across the clearing like fireworks.

The duel grew more intense with each passing second. James was agile, his movements fluid as he weaved between spells, sending hexes and jinxes Catherine's way in quick succession. The young witch, however, was feeling the strain. Her breathing grew more ragged with every passing minute.

"Diffindo!" – the girl shouted, aiming to disarm her classmate. The spell sliced through the air, narrowly missing him as he dove to the side, rolling back onto his feet.

"Nice try!" - he called, his own wand rising for another spell, but then he paused, eyes narrowing. He saw it: a brief tremble in Catherine's wand arm, the slightest stumble in her stance. She was tiring, but still refused to back down. Gritting her teeth, the witch raised her wand again, summoning her energy for a final offensive. But in that moment, James struck.

"Petrificus Totalus!" - he bellowed, his wand carving a sharp arc through the air. Catherine's eyes widened in shock as she moved to counter—but exhaustion betrayed her. The spell struck her squarely in the chest, knocking the wind out of her. Her vision blurred, and an icy numbness surged through her body. Her arms snapped to her sides, legs clamped together, and she toppled to the ground like a felled tree. A sickening thud followed as her head struck a stone hidden in the grass.

James' heart lurched, his breath catching as he watched her crumple, her wand slipping from her rigid fingers.

"Flame!" - he screamed, the duel forgotten. The wizard sprinted to his friend's side, dropping to his knees. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow and uneven. A trickle of blood stained her temple, stark against her pale skin.

"No, no, no!" - James muttered, his hands shaking as he fumbled for his wand. He had pushed her too hard; he should have noticed how tired she was. His mind raced as he tried to remember the right spell. "Rennervate!" - he cried, his voice cracking with fear.

A faint glow emanated from his wand, encircling Catherine's form, but she remained still, unconscious. Desperation gnawed at him as he repeated the spell, begging her to open her eyes. But nothing happened. The forest around them seemed to grow darker, colder, as if it too sensed the gravity of the situation.

"Please, Catherine..." - he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face -"Wake up..."