Chapter Text
The Slytherin Quidditch Team were drunk at practice today.
Actually, to be precise, only two members of the Slytherin Quidditch Team were drunk at practice today. What with them being the Beaters, their names were well known within Hogwarts, and rumour spread fast that not only were Jack Thompson and Gilbert Ryan absolutely pissed this morning, but so was their Captain: Margaret Carter. And Margaret Carter being drunk? During practice? When their Quidditch Match against Ravenclaw is only in a few of weeks? One can only imagine the flood of gossip.
No, Peggy was not drunk at practice today, but she wishes she was.
Because never in her God given days has she ever felt so humiliated. Thompson was most out of order, yelling out not-so-flattering slurs towards a few girls observing the chaos, as well as making fool of himself once he did manage to hop onto his broom. His flying was, to put it lightly, dreadful. Miraculously, he did manage to hit a Bludger in the opposite direction of his Seeker, but that was just before he thought it would be a brilliant idea to swerve around on his broom and actually topple off.
Afterwards, Thompson––bloody-nosed and still drunk––decided to flirt with his Captain.
Bad idea.
Now, Thompson is in the Hospital Wing, not just because of a broken nose, but also because of a broken arm, thanks to his dear Captain. Peggy regrets losing her temper, especially because Thompson will not be able to fly a broom if he doesn’t heal fast. Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey is a whizz at fixing broken bones, and she assured Peggy that he will be able to play during the Match. That is one small relief Peggy can relish in, at least.
Several Slytherins are whispering, hunched up together, and glancing at Peggy while she finishes her homework. She catches the word “embarrassment”. Although she is used to gossip at the Slytherin table, Peggy knows they are discussing her Quidditch Team, and while Thompson did act like a prick, that doesn’t mean the rest of her Team should be punished for his behaviour as well!
There is a butter knife leaning against a plate nearby. True, it’s not sharp, but she’s tempted to jab it into their sides––just a minor warning that if you mock her Quidditch Team, you are also mocking her, and Peggy is very protective of her teammates. She’s eyeing the butter knife when she hears her name amongst the whispers, but before she can act, someone sits beside her, blocking her view of the knife.
‘Hey, doll. Why so blue?’
Peggy groans. ‘Remember the last time you sat here?’
‘Oh, so I’m not allowed to sit with you! Who cares?’
‘Everybody, apparently.’
‘Then everybody can stick it.’
Angie Martinelli, while she is a dear, tends to have her foot in her mouth, and she also makes quite a loud job of it as well. The whispering Slytherins have stopped talking, now watching the two girls. One of them scowls at Angie, and even has the audacity to lean over and say, ‘You’re a Hufflepuff. Go sit on your own table.’
'You’re gonna have to try harder than that if you want me to move,’ Angie says, not at all bothered that a fellow Slytherin is basically threatening her to leave.
He stands up now, clearly insulted. ‘You really don’t think I can make you, Martinelli? This is the Slytherin table, where the Slytherins sit at. Piss off.’
Before Angie can open her mouth to retort, Peggy jumps to her feet, glaring at him. ‘Talk to my friend that way again, then I’ll make sure you won’t be able to sit at all for the next month. Have we got that clear?’
Half of the table have fallen silent, especially now that the Quidditch Captain has spoken. The Slytherin student watches Peggy with a mixture of fear and anger. He glances at Angie, who just sits there, smiling pleasantly. No one has been able to fight these two apart, and this student isn’t keen to be the first.
Scoffing, he sits back down, but not before muttering, ‘Mudblood.’
Usually Angie brushes aside such an old, and crude insult. She has no shame in the fact her parents are, indeed, Muggles. Peggy, however, has extremely strong views, especially concerning what makes a Witch a Witch and what makes a Wizard a Wizard. The stereotype is that Slytherins only associate themselves with Pure Bloods. The reality is that most Slytherins enjoy the company of Half Bloods and Muggle Borns.
This creep does not help Peggy in ridding the stereotype.
Nor she does she appreciate him saying such a horrid word.
‘What did you say?’ She demands.
Angie winces visibly, and takes Peggy’s hand. ‘He ain’t worth it, English.’
The male student tries to ignore Peggy’s burning glare, but now his friends have started to feel the effect as well. ‘Did you hear me?’ Peggy’s voice has tightened. Even some Ravenclaws have started to watch the scene from their table. ‘I insist you repeat what you just said, and then suffer the consequences you deserve.’
‘Pegs, stop it!’
‘He shouldn’t call you that. He shouldn’t call you that!’
‘I don’t think you have the right to tell me how to behave, Carter, when you can’t even control your own Quidditch Team.’
Now Angie does react. She whips her head around at him, and he’s so taken aback by her frightening approach, he even tips back slightly. ‘That’s some loyalty ya got there! Ya only need common sense to realise that it’s all gossip, y’know? None of it is true––actually, I think the Thompson gettin’ drunk part is––but aside from that, anybody knows for a fact that Peggy wouldn’t get drunk ever, and neither would her teammates. I’m not even a part of her Team and I know that!’
He’s quiet now. In fact, he can’t even look at Angie, he’s blushing so heavily. Peggy gently rests a hand on Angie’s arm, and the two women remain standing while the male student finally takes a leave, ego bruised. His friends soon follow. Relieved to be rid of them, Peggy sits back down next to Angie. They both say nothing for a short while. Peggy glances at the staring Ravenclaws who quickly look away.
The rumours about the Slytherin Team will evaporate soon, but Peggy notes to give Thompson a good scolding once he walks his sorry arse out of the Hospital Wing. Angie watches Peggy out of the corner of her eye, then looks down to her homework. Peggy is already working on her essay for Defence Against the Dark Arts, and it isn’t due for another three months. Mind, Peggy has a knack for working far too early, her essays in weeks before the actual deadline.
It’s what makes her such a good Quidditch Captain, though. Peggy is organised, in love with her work, and very strict on the rules of the game. Not to mention she’s a great mentor all around. Her Team are always given an inspiring little speech before each Match. The Slytherin Quidditch Team are right next to Gryffindor as far as ability is concerned; the two best Teams in the school.
How Peggy manages to split her time with Quidditch and work is beyond Angie, and still her friend passes with top grades.
It’s kind of annoying.
‘You all right, English?’
Peggy smiles at her. In truth, no, she’s not all right, and Angie is aware of that. It’s nice that someone cares, though. ‘Spiffing.’ Peggy inhales. ‘Thank you. By the way. For defending my case. You honestly didn’t need to do that.’
‘Sure I did,’ Angie shrugs. ‘And, hey, you were the one who got in a state, English. I don’t care what they call me.’ She smiles crookedly. ‘Weren’t you the one going on about knowing your own value? That applies here, doesn’t it?’
‘Of course. I’m still allowed to feel––passionate about it.’
‘Ah, so is passionate the word?’
‘Perhaps,’ Peggy says through jarred teeth. Angie giggles. It is musical to Peggy’s ears, and she has to smirk at her friend’s response. ‘We need to practice more. I won’t wait on Thompson. It’s his own bloody fault if he can’t join us. My Seeker, the new student I told you about, isn’t too shabby. He is awfully nervous, however. I tried to help him find the Snitch the other day, and he only ended up flying straight into a tree.’ Peggy grimaces. ‘Poor thing. He had a few bruises afterwards.’
‘Ouch.’
‘I have complete faith in him, though. He’s an excellent Seeker when he’s confident, and I always choose my players carefully.’ Angie rolls her eyes, smiling. Peggy has a habit for babbling when she’s anxious. ‘I suppose the worst thing that could happen during the Match is if our Seeker lost his balance, but I definitely intend to focus on balance a lot more during practice; I feel that would benefit each of us, wouldn’t you agree?’
Angie raises her brows, rather surprised. Why does Peggy ask her about these things? Frankly, if Angie’s best friend weren't so involved in Quidditch, Angie wouldn’t care less. That’s a lie, actually. Angie would care, but certainly not as much. She stares at Peggy for a moment, amused at how focussed and determined she is. Angie, admittedly, finds Peggy her most fetching at times like these. Not that she’ll ever admit to it.
Instead, Angie teases her, ‘You talk too much, English.’
Peggy accepts that. ‘Mm.’
‘I was with Steve today while you were at practice.’
At the mention of her friend, Peggy’s face brightens. Angie ignores the funny twist in her stomach. ‘You were? How is he?’
‘Fine, until he fell down the stairs.’
‘What?’
‘It’s okay! I was there. I helped him up afterwards.’ Angie snorts. ‘He falls gracefully as well.’
‘Angie.’
‘I swear, he’s fine, Pegs!’ She pulls a face. ‘God, his best buddy just kept biting at me for not lookin’ out for him. It ain’t my fault if he decides to run off.’ She pauses. ‘I may have provoked it.’ Another pause. Peggy raises a brow at her. ‘All right, I may have chased him down the corridor, but Bucky doesn’t need to jab his finger at me whenever Steve gets hurt.’
Peggy wants to slam her head into the table.
While Bucky is very protective of Steve, he has every right to be! Steve has the biggest heart in the entirety of Hogwarts, but the weakest immune system possible. It’s impressive how many colds Steve can catch each season; Peggy tends to find herself playing the role of “tissue provider”. The warning bell is sounded the moment Steve sneezes. And Peggy is always there to pass him several boxes of tissues.
As well as his inhaler, which the vast majority of students are perplexed with.
Those ignorant of the Muggle World truly are unbearable.
‘It didn’t actually hurt,’ Steve says later that day, when he and Peggy sit on the windowsill, looking down at Hogwarts grounds. ‘Ange threatened to steal my wand, so I ran off––I missed my step and slipped. Honestly, I am fine.’
‘You’re an idiot.’
‘True.’
Peggy sighs, and watches three students run into the Castle, another skipping behind. ‘I suppose you heard the latest gossip about my Team.’
‘Why are you tolerating Thompson? I mean…’ Steve averts his gaze, ‘Neither you or I are fond of him.’
Peggy recounts a few months ago when Thompson had started bullying Steve, and even accused him of having a crush on Peggy. To nobody’s surprise, that spread further gossip around the school, and Bucky certainly sunk in his message to Thompson that if ever spread rumour around like that again, there would be consequences to pay. Thompson never mentioned Steve and Peggy in the same sentence again.
Tapping her fingers against her arm, Peggy drifts off into her own thoughts, particularly on the Match. Maybe she should get rid of Thompson. He is a very good Beater. Fantastic, even, but most days she just cannot stand him. Surely as Captain of the Team, she has the right to dismiss him. Or, maybe she should call it to a vote? Peggy trails a finger over her lower lip, considering her options, and is disturbed when a shower of pink love hearts flutter around her, falling into her lap.
She looks up to find Steve grinning at her, shaking his wand where the love hearts pour from.
‘Why the long face, Pegs?’
It always amazes her how he is able to cast spells like that. She reaches out and holds his wand hand. ‘The Match is soon. That’s why I have a long face.’
He mocks a pout. ‘Why, though? You know your Team is awesome. I sometimes wish I was Slytherin and became a player, but what with my––issues, I wouldn’t stand a chance. The slightest gust of wind would knock me off my broom.’
‘Nonsense,’ Peggy insists. ‘I’d give you all the time in the world to practice. You should bring yourself up to the challenge, Steve.’
‘Thanks, Pegs. Maybe I will. I dunno.’ He knows. Steve won’t be touching a broomstick anytime soon. When he travels to Peggy’s over the Summer, he definitely tries out Quidditch with her, but that is Quidditch with Peggy, when he doesn’t have to worry over competition and the opposing side. More to the point, Peggy is fantastic at Quidditch, and kicks his butt, even when she tries to go easy on him.
Quidditch simply isn’t for Steve.
‘Can I tell you something?’ Steve asks.
‘Do.’
‘You promise not to get mad?’
‘I promise.’
‘Howard bets his entire vault that you’re going to lose the Match.’ A frightening darkness passes Peggy’s face. Steve gulps. ‘I just want you to know that I betted against him––and he’ll lose! I know he will, because you’re a winner, Pegs.’
She scowls. ‘That wanker had better be careful. Did he honestly bet his Galleons on Ravenclaw?’
‘Yeah,’ Steve rubs the back of his head. ‘He thinks Dottie Underwood has a better chance at beating you.’
‘Oh, pish-posh! Just because he’s dating her. What an utter fool. If he keeps up with that sort of behaviour, then he’ll end up with no friends.’ Peggy scowls to herself. Dottie Underwood. Her one, true rival. She is Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team, a Beater, and she’s brilliant as well, if not more brilliant than Peggy. The two girls have always had issue with one another, ever since First Year.
Things got nasty when Peggy beat her during their first match.
Thing got even uglier when Dottie deliberately hit a Bludger in Peggy’s direction, knocking Peggy off her broom.
Steve is grinning. She grins back. ‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ he chortles, ‘It’s just Angie was right: you take yourself way too seriously.’
The next day, in Hogsmeade, Howard earns a shock when Peggy kicks him into the wall. Howard blurts out how sorry he is, and that he’ll make it up to her in any way she likes, which does hinder Peggy from beating him to a pulp. She forgets how easy it is to make this man petrified. He may act smooth and confident, but around Peggy, he realises who’s boss, and while they might be close friends, they still have their silly fallouts. To Howard’s luck (and relief), Angie is with Peggy at the time, and manages to pry Peggy’s hands off him.
Peggy huffs at him. ‘You are insufferable.’
‘You know I’m on your side,’ Howard says. ‘But, seriously, if I bet against Dottie, can you imagine what she’d do to me?’
‘Indeed, but did you care to imagine what I’d do to you?’
Howard cocks a brow. Angie realises this discussion isn’t going anywhere, and steps between them. ‘Is it possible for you two to have a day without fighting?’
‘See?’ Howard asks, smiling at Angie fondly. ‘Your friend is so nice.’
‘Stay away,’ Peggy glowers.
Angie rolls her eyes.
‘I’ve always found Hufflepuffs so charming,’ Howard grins, and looks at Peggy. ‘You should take a leaf out of her book.’
‘I’ll have you know––'
‘Will you both quit it?’ Angie intercepts, pushing Peggy back. ‘Who cares who betted against who? The fact of the matter is that Pegs is gonna win, and you’re the one who’s gonna lose out the most, Mister. Girlfriend or not.’
Howard flushes. ‘Sharp tongue.’ He flashes his eyes at Peggy. ‘So you do have a type.’
‘Yes, unlike you, who seems pretty content in sleeping with whatever walks on two legs.’
Howard raises his brows. ‘I can’t really deny that. Look, Peggy, I’m sorry. If I can make it up to you in any way.’ He looks back at Angie, and his smile broadens. ‘Or, you, my dear lady.’
That is it.
One moment Peggy’s wand is in her grasp.
The next Howard’s trousers are down to his ankles, and several passing students point and laugh at the unfolding event.
As red as a tomato, Howard shoves his trousers back up.
Angie stifles a giggle of her own.
Now in a foul and embarrassed mood, Howard steps past the young Italian, and then Peggy, whispering, ‘That wasn’t necessary.’ Peggy just watches him leave, a smug smile plastered on her face. She won’t admit to it, but that felt good. That felt really good, and there is nothing more satisfying than watching Howard Stark walk away, red-faced. She turns to a laughing Angie.
Peggy grins, pleased with her work.
‘One day you’re gonna get in trouble for abusing your spells.’
‘As if you’re one to talk,’ Peggy reminds. ‘Come on. I’m dying for a Butterbeer.’
Both Witches enter The Three Broomsticks together, and order their drinks, before sitting at the farthest table beside the window. Peggy can identify several students socialising with their friends, although this afternoon there are a mixture of adults as well. She takes a sip of her Butterbeer, and glances to the right, spotting Dottie Underwood with another girl Peggy recognises.
Her heart stops.
Angie frowns at her when Peggy chokes slightly on her Butterbeer.
‘What’s got into you?’ She asks.
'N––Nothing.’
Angie isn’t stupid. She follows Peggy’s line of gaze, and instantly recognises the elegant blonde seated a few tables away. Dottie allegedly hasn’t noticed them, but it isn’t Dottie which has made Peggy so flustered. The girl accompanying Dottie is also blonde, extremely attractive, and who used to be Peggy’s fellow Chaser in the Slytherin Team. Angie tightens her grip on her Butterbeer glass.
She clicks her fingers in Peggy’s view.
‘Hey, English.’
Peggy blinks, and looks at her dumbly.
‘Pick ya'own fights. Thought you were done with her anyway,’ Angie mumbles.
‘I am,’ Peggy confirms, but even as she says this, she turns back to Dottie’s friend. That is when they notice Peggy staring. Dottie cocks a brow in Peggy’s direction, and Peggy isn’t speedy enough to look away when the other girl notices. Lorraine. Peggy’s ex-girlfriend, whom she dumped for reasons Peggy isn’t keen to go into.
Lorraine cracks a smirk. Peggy casts her eyes to her drink.
She’s oblivious of Angie’s expression. All she hears is her voice. ‘Sure don’t look like it, English.’ Peggy closes her eyes in dismay when she senses Lorraine stand up, a wicked grin at her lips as she approaches their table. Angie tenses immediately, and even turns around to glare at Lorraine when she comes nearer. Lorraine ignores Angie completely, placing her hands onto the table and leaning over to Peggy.
‘Hello, darling. I’ve missed you.’
Peggy inhales, and forces herself to meet her gaze. ‘Do you? I never would have guessed, but you have always had a knack for giving off the wrong signs.’
‘That’s rude, Pegs. That hurts me.’
‘You don’t say.’ Peggy realises Angie is stiff in her seat, fuming, and not really looking at anyone or anything in particular. Aware that her friend is discomforted, Peggy sharpens her voice, ‘What do you want? I really don’t want anything to do with you, so please be on your way, and leave us be.’
‘Oh, you know I’d hate to interrupt your date.’ Lorraine finally acknowledges Angie, and she smirks wide. ‘She’s a lot like that boy you’re fond of––Steve, right? You seem to like the sensitive ones, Pegs.’ Angie scowls. Peggy hardens her gaze. Lorraine’s smirk broadens. It’s then Peggy realises Dottie is observing the commotion, a menacing glimmer in her eyes. ‘Heard about what happened at Quidditch practice today.’ She sighs dramatically. ‘Maybe I should have stayed in the Team.’
‘Maybe not,’ Peggy snaps. ‘You will only be an unnecessary distraction.’
‘Is that what I am to you, Pegs? A distraction? And here I thought you were over me.’
Angie downs half her glass of Butterbeer so fast, Peggy is slightly concerned.
‘I look forward to the Match, babe.’ Lorraine grins. ‘I still think you’re sexy in your Quidditch uniform. The green really brings out your eyes.’ Angie scoffs, loud enough for Lorraine to hear. The blonde cocks a brow at her. ‘Wouldn’t you agree, Martinelli? I know you have a thing for her. Careful: she’s a little rough around the edges.’
Thwack!
Peggy gapes in horror as Lorraine stumbles backwards, blood bursting from her lip. Half of the Inn have forgotten their drinks, in awe at what's occurred, and a couple of students even hurry over to make sure that Lorraine is okay. A few others, however, laugh out loud and return to their conversations.
The Italian is stumped, fixed in her position, fist still raised.
Dottie has left her seat, and is suddenly at Angie's side. Her manoeuvre smooth and unnoticeable, it's almost scary. She’s just as gorgeous as Peggy’s ex-girlfriend, if not more so. ‘Careful, Angie, darling. That temper of yours might get you into a spot of trouble.’ Angie says nothing, speechless, and still in shock at what she has just done. Lorraine glares at her fiercely, wiping her bloody face with the back of her hand. Dottie faces Peggy, who’s still gaping at Angie. ‘I look forward to our Match, Captain.’ Peggy is brought back to her senses, meets her gaze, and her entire body goes rigid. ‘Should be a good one.’
‘I’ll make sure of that,’ Peggy replies. Dottie squints her eyes at her, then smiles crookedly. She moves towards Lorraine, barges past the small fretting crowd, and escorts her friend out of the Inn. Lorraine peers at Peggy behind her shoulder, looking most upset and insulted at Angie’s attack.
Once they’re out of the door, Angie exhales loudly and collapses in her seat. ‘Oh, God.’
‘Oh, God is right.’ Peggy returns to her seat as well, but she’s beaming ear-to-ear. ‘Angie, you are amazing.’
Angie can’t quite believe what she’s hearing. She blinks rapidly, and doesn’t know how to respond at first. The adrenaline is still pumping inside her, so much so that it makes her hands shake. She really shouldn’t have punched Lorraine, but she really should have as well. Blimey, that felt too good to be true! Angie can see why Peggy does that so much with the boys who irritate her.
But Peggy is telling the truth.
Angie is amazing.
And Angie is mesmerised by the Slytherin Captain. How beautiful she appears in the sunlight, her gorgeous, brown hair tied back in a bun, several strands falling to her shoulders. The green hem of her blazer, her Quidditch Captain badge winking at her, and the emerald tie which so many scorn at. Somehow, Peggy’s House colour makes her appear that much more lovely. A complete complex: cunning and manipulative in her work, fiercely independent, and tremendously loyal to a fault.
How can she not have a crush on her best friend?
Angie finally reacts. She feels her cheeks heat up, but hopes that’s because of the Butterbeer, not because of the way Peggy is looking at her.
‘You’re full of it, English,’ she remarks. ‘Shut up and finish your drink.’
After they’ve downed their Butterbeers, Angie drags Peggy through Hogsmeade Village and encourages her to browse around Honeydukes. Peggy is put off by the huge crowd within, but, for Angie, she obliges. While Angie, being as petite as she is, manages to pry between the students in search of her favourite treats, Peggy stays at the back, admiring a a shelf full of different Cauldron Cakes. The designs are getting more ludicrous each year, she thinks to herself, picking up one with humorous, edible eyes bulging out of the surface. Not at all appetising.
Someone heavy bumps into her. Peggy turns around to face her offender, and she’s stunned when she realises it’s Thompson.
Her Beater gasps out loud.
Peggy grins slyly. ‘Well, well, well. Look who it is.’
It is just Thompson’s luck that his friend Daniel Sousa is present. Leaning on a crutch, Daniel hurries over, and drags Thompson back. ‘Very sorry, Peggy. We didn’t mean to disturb you if you’re doing anything.’
‘I think I saw your nice friend enter,’ Thompson says, searching for Angie.
‘You thought correctly,’ Peggy says. ‘I see your nose is fixed. As is your arm.’
‘Mm. Yeah,’ he mumbles, protectively hiding his nose from her.
‘I look forward to the Match, Peggy,’ Daniel says sweetly. ‘I might be a Hufflepuff, but I’ve always supported your Team. If only the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team could have a Captain like you, we’d be so much better.’
‘That is very kind of you, Sousa,’ Peggy replies, smiling at him. ‘I have watched your Team play before; they’re not too bad. Not at all, even. I’d be delighted to assist your Quidditch Team in whatever way possible. If your Captain is content with the idea.’
Thompson laughs. ‘I wouldn’t worry about that, Marge. You know what their Captain is like; too damn fucking proud.’ Daniel looks at him sharply. ‘Eh, sorry, uh… too damn proud, I should probably say. There are ladies present.’
‘Your Captain is also present,’ Peggy snaps. ‘Anyway, I don’t intend to delay you gentlemen further. Thompson, I expect to see you at practice on Thursday.’
‘Yeah, sure, sure.’
Daniel waits for Thompson to move aside, before leaning into Peggy. ‘Just so you know, it’d be great if you checked out our Team. I’ll talk to the Captain, but if you can, I’d really like it if you came along.’
Peggy nods. ‘Like I said, I’d be delighted. I’m, of course, currently focussed on our Match in a few weeks, but try and catch me when I’m not busy.’
‘English!’
‘Oh,’ Daniel laughs, ‘Guess you’re wanted.’
‘I guess so,’ Peggy replies.
‘English!’ On cue, Angie suddenly appears from the crowd, and grabs Peggy by her hand. Angie doesn’t notice Daniel awkwardly lingering, and pulls Peggy into the crowd with her. ‘I found somethin’ you might like,’ she grins, never once letting go of Peggy’s hand. They stop in the centre of the shop, where there is a large cauldron, containing a bubbling purple liquid within.
Peggy cocks a brow.
A deep voice is heard behind her shoulder, catching her by surprise. ‘Definitely your sort of thing.’
Whipping around, Peggy sees Bucky with a relatively disinterested expression. He rounds her, slotting himself in-between she and Angie. Sure enough, Steve appears as well, affectionately wrapping an around Peggy’s shoulders. ‘Do you know what this is, Pegs?’ He queries.
‘I haven’t the foggiest.’
‘Poison,’ Bucky teases.
Steve cracks a grin. ‘Ignore him.’
‘I always do,’ Peggy mumbles.
‘Drink enough of this and you have photographic memory for a few hours,’ Angie says, pointing towards the potion. ‘This is gonna be a problem during exam period.’ Her eyes brighten. ‘Speakin’ of.’ Steve clearly has the same idea, for both students hurry to fetch themselves a pot to pour their supply of potion in.
Peggy rolls her eyes. ‘As if they’re going to get away with that.’
‘Knowing those two, they actually might,’ Bucky says, stepping closer to her. He eyes the potion, and curls his lips. ‘What they don’t realise is that it’ll wear off by the time they actually do enter their exams.’ They chuckle at that, but the humour dries fast. Bucky looks over to Peggy. ‘You’d better be careful on your broom these next few weeks, Carter. If you fall and hurt yourself, then Steve––' He stops, and his expression goes blunt. ‘Just be careful, all right?’
Peggy knows what he means. If Peggy does get severely wounded (or even dies) on the Quidditch Pitch, Steve won’t be able to handle the grief. She watches her friend laugh and chatter with Angie while they collect their potion, and hurry to pay. While Steve will struggle with coping with Peggy’s wounds, it’s not necessarily him Peggy is concerned about. Steve is stronger than he appears, more than Bucky sometimes gives him credit for.
When her eyes land on Angie, on her excited face, her thrill for life, Peggy feels her heart beat a little faster.
It definitely won’t just be Steve who’ll care for her safety when the day comes.