The days leading up to Christmas break were a blur of stolen moments and fierce competition.
Ezekiel and Daphne's relationship had changed—deepened. The tension that had once existed between them, the hesitation, had melted away. In its place was a hunger, an understanding, a fire that refused to be tamed.
And yet, outside their secret world, life continued.
Quidditch season was in full swing, and Ravenclaw was aiming for the cup once again. The stakes were high, and Ezekiel wasn't about to let his team down.
---
It was early. Too early for most students to be awake. But in a quiet alcove near the astronomy tower, Ezekiel and Daphne were very much awake.
Daphne pressed against him, her arms draped over his shoulders as he leaned into her warmth. The castle was cold, but she was always warm.
"I should be at practice," Ezekiel murmured against her lips.
Daphne smirked, her fingers threading into his hair. "And yet, you're here."
He chuckled, kissing her again, slow and deep, savoring her.
Daphne let out a soft hum, pulling him closer. "I like having you to myself before the world starts demanding your attention."
Ezekiel exhaled against her skin, pressing soft kisses along her jaw. "You always have me, Daphne."
She smiled, tilting his chin so their eyes met. "Good."
And for a while, they stayed like that—lost in each other, stealing a moment before the chaos of the day.
---
By the afternoon, the crisp winter air had settled over the Quidditch field. Ravenclaw was set to play against Gryffindor, and the tension in the stands was palpable.
Ezekiel stood tall, his broom in hand, his blue and bronze robes billowing in the wind. Across from him, Harry Potter, Gryffindor's new Seeker, was watching with determination.
"Ready to lose, Potter?" Ezekiel smirked.
Harry met his gaze, his green eyes fierce. "We'll see about that, Malverne."
The whistle blew, and the game exploded into motion.
Ezekiel was a force of nature—his movements sharp, precise. He wove through the field, dodging Bludgers and outmaneuvering Gryffindor's Chasers.
Daphne was watching from the Slytherin stands, her arms crossed, eyes locked onto him.
When he scored his third goal, she smirked. "Show-off."
But Gryffindor wasn't an easy opponent. The Weasley twins were relentless, and Angelina Johnson pushed Ravenclaw's defense to the limit.
As the game wore on, the real battle began—Harry Potter chasing the Snitch.
Ezekiel spotted him diving and knew it was over. A split second later, Harry's fingers closed around the Snitch, and Gryffindor's side erupted in cheers.
Ravenclaw had lost.
Ezekiel landed, exhaling sharply. He hated losing, but as he caught sight of Harry grinning, holding up the Snitch, he smirked. The kid had potential.
Daphne met him after the match, tilting her head. "You're brooding."
Ezekiel sighed. "I don't like losing."
Daphne chuckled, stepping closer. "You'll get over it. Besides…" She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "I think you deserve a reward for playing so well."
His breath hitched, his hands tightening around her waist. "Oh?"
She smirked. "But not here. Find me later."
And just like that, his frustration with the match was forgotten.
---
That night, after the victory party in Gryffindor Tower had died down, Ezekiel found Daphne waiting for him in a secluded hallway.
"You played well," she murmured as he approached.
He smirked, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Are you admitting that I impress you?"
Daphne rolled her eyes but didn't pull away. "I suppose I can admit that my fiancé is quite talented."
Ezekiel chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Christmas break is soon. I want to spend as much time with you as possible before then."
Daphne leaned into him, her fingers brushing against his chest. "Then take me somewhere private."
His breath hitched. "Daphne…"
She looked up at him, her expression soft but filled with intent. "I don't want to spend another night apart."
His grip on her tightened. "Then you won't."
And as he led her away, the world outside ceased to matter.
---