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Detention

Tom Riddle was never excited about a Quidditch match before. He woke up early, eagerly awaiting the start of the match.

When he saw Morsia enter the stadium and locked eyes with her, he smirked triumphantly, waiting for her to eat dirt.

"Oh my god, Riddle! You actually came! But this isn't my match though," McGonagall cheered upon seeing Riddle in the audience.

"Minnie, come on, let's go to the other side; it's much better there!" another second-year Gryffindor girl pulled her away.

Riddle sighed in relief, looking back at the match. It had finally begun as everyone cheered for their teams while he covered his ears.

Riddle saw that Morsia was staying safe mid-air, completely detached from the match. This was not what he wanted; he wanted her to crash somehow, but he wanted to make it look like an accident.

Just then, the Hufflepuff beater sent the Bludger toward Lestrange. It was close, and Lestrange should have been hit, but Riddle jinxed the Bludger, making it appear as if Lestrange skillfully avoided it. Simultaneously, Riddle directed the Bludger toward Morsia, who remained clueless about his actions.

However, Riddle wasn't very lucky as it was difficult to aim properly with all the players barricading his vision. Nevertheless, the Bludger hit Morsia's broom, causing her to fall off and free-fall toward the ground.

Riddle's heart filled with contentment as he stood up to see her hit the ground, but to his dismay, she landed on another player's broom instead.

"What the hell?" Riddle cursed to himself, swiftly moving out of the stadium toward the castle.

"BLIMEY, WILL YOU LOOK AT THAT?"

"SIA SAVES THE DAY—I mean, the match! Slytherin got lucky, scoring 150 points with the snitch, and Slytherin wins with a final score of 360 to 200!"

Morsia quickly slid through the crowd before anyone could reach her.

"Where's Ravenwood?" Lestrange looked around; she had just handed him the snitch but had vanished when he turned to greet other players.

"That is a foul!!" the Hufflepuff seeker came running toward Professor Merrythought.

"Well, Mr. Xyloever, let us ask Madam Carla."

Stolen novel; please report.

A tall blonde woman, dressed in ivory robes, peeked behind Professor Merrythought, holding a large book.

"I was thinking the same, but it's technically not a foul!" she said, looking down at the manual book.

"But she was literally standing on a Hufflepuff's broom!" he argued.

"Yes, but when she caught the snitch, she had jumped off, and when she landed, she was still on her broom," Madam Carla shook her head.

"That was fantastic," she retorted, to which Professor Merrythought smiled.

The Slytherins cheered their victory, their momentary win making them forget about their mysterious seeker.

Tom Riddle walked furiously, his destination set on the dormitory. 'How did she escape that? That lucky bitch.'

In a moment of rage, while walking, he bumped into someone. "Sorry," he muttered without looking up.

"Running away from me, aren't you, Riddle?"

It was Morsia, her Quidditch gear unchanged, holding her wand at the ready. Riddle quickly drew his wand out, meeting her eyes.

"You wish," he retorted, refusing to be inferior.

He was the first one to act, maybe out of fear of not having the upper hand like last time, but the spell did hit Morsia. Now he wished he had used a different, more sinister curse as he realized almost everyone was in the Quidditch field.

Morsia quickly collected herself from Riddle's curse. "Not bad, Tommy."

But before they could curse each other, they were interrupted by a heavy voice, "Merlin's beard, are we having a behind-the-scenes duel right after a Quidditch match now?"

Professor Dumbledore had come up behind Riddle, his piercing blue eyes surveying them with a smile.

No one spoke a word, so he continued, "I see, you must know that fame isn't everything, and it is definitely not worth fighting friends for."

Riddle was slightly glad that Dumbledore had interrupted them since he knew deep down he'd lose again against her.

"We know that too well, Professor. We were simply prac--"

Before he could finish his statement, Morsia hit him, causing him to collapse to the ground two feet apart.

He grunted in pain as he didn't see that coming, and Professor Dumbledore looked equally surprised.

"Ms. Ravenwood, you've got quite the rebel blood," he said, looking at Morsia carefully, but she looked back at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I had to hit him back to humble him," she replied. Riddle was convinced that she was a better actor than he was, as she said what she meant while putting up a lovely front, unlike him, who said what he didn't mean.

Riddle got up slowly, his anger mixed with slight admiration.

"Very well, I still have to take 10 points from Slytherin and have you in detention," Professor Dumbledore nodded.

"I will take that, Professor," Morsia said curtly as they both watched Professor Dumbledore walk away.

It was about time, and the students slowly emerged inside the castle. Upon seeing Morsia, Fernsby and other Slytherins came cheering.

"Oh, gawd. Morsia! That was one hell of a stunt you pulled! You might replace me as a seeker!" Fernsby jumped up and down.

"I was thinking the same. Why not join the team, Ravenwood? You've got the talent—I told you before," Lestrange added.

With this commotion, Riddle drifted away unnoticed by the others. For the first time, he felt a little sad, as people didn't acknowledge his presence.

"No, Quidditch is not my thing. Sorry," Morsia replied with finality in her tone, and no one dared to pester her again.

Now Tom and Sia both headed toward the dorm, along with their dormmates. While one's reputation grew, the other thought his were going down, but the reality was different.