A/N: Oneshot for now. May add a second chapter somewhere down the line. Enjoy!

Regina Mills and Emma Swan were seekers on opposite sides of the Hogwarts's quidditch teams.

Push-pull, whoever caught the flying ball won it all, all that. They went broomstick to broomstick in nearly every match, nearly killed each other too. They couldn't coexist on the quidditch field, and couldn't really coexist off of it either. It didn't help, Emma thought as she limped to the hospital wing to get her ankle checked out, that Regina was kind of a raging witch with a b. As Mary Margaret would say, of course. Emma curled her lip as she thought of Regina's smug face, lips in a smirk, hair gelled back, eyebrow lifted, straddling that broomstick expertly-

No. No. Being horny and having a sprained ankle and also Madame Pomfrey looming over her to fix said sprained ankle with a flick of her wand didn't mix.

Yeah. That was the other problem.

"Bloody hell, Swan!" August said as she (finally) made her way down to the dining hall, still sort of limping despite the fact that her ankle was well healed. Madame Pomfrey assured her the lingering pains would go away in a couple of hours, if of course she didn't think too much about the events that led to it. Which meant no thinky about Regina. Which was harder that she thought, considering Regina's final words to her. (That, Miss Swan, was payback for the wrist last week. Consider it a smallmercy, dear. My bite can be much harder than my bark, if I choose so.)

She gulped just thinking about the way Regina's eyes flickered down, how her lips curled, how-

"Earth to Emma, are you on Mars?" August asked, looking at her amusedly, his eyes twinkling. She blinked.

"No I'm-"

"Are you okay, Emma?" David. Of course, eternal nice guy. Which was why he was very very close to Mary Margaret right now and also why she was bright pink all over.

"Fine! I'm fine guys. Seriously." She glanced over at August, blinking twice.

"What the hell is on your head?" She asked. August frowned, as if he had no idea what Emma was talking about before his eyes blinked in remembrance. On top of his head was a rather large lion head, perhaps homemade with felt fur, two black beady eyes, and snarling teeth. (Snake teeth? Stolen from the potions classroom?) It would have been fine, okay kind of weird but still fine, school spirit and all, August were actually a Gryffindor.

Then again he didn't really have many friends in his house.

"Oh this! I was wearing it for the game, of course. It got some strange looks, but I've gotta show my spirit for the team somehow."

Emma was about to reply when a cackle-like laughter rung in the air, causing the hairs at the back of her neck to stand up. Not in a bad way, more like in a straight to her red and gold panties sort of way. She glanced over to the Slytherin table. Regina was talking with Killian Jones, a beater on the Slythering quidditch team and an eternal thorn in Emma Swan's side. Regina was wearing one of her charmingly fake smiles, all bravado, but with cold eyes like a snake. Well…appropriate…all things considering.

And then something hit the back of her head. Surprisingly hard for paper. (As if she needed more injuries that day, really). She rubbed the back of her head, and smiled sheepishly at Mary Margaret and David, who were looking at her like she just slipped and fell off the bench. August was just smirking, which never really bode well for her future and well being. (She acutely remembered an incident with a couple of blast-ended skrewt in their third year). She sighed and reached down to pick up whatever had hit her. A note. A very pristinely folded paper airplane, if there were ever to be such a thing.

She opened it up at the words wrote themselves, in elegant flowing script, the ink dark red. Like apples well tended to and fresh off a tree. As she began to read the first words (Miss Swan) she felt her stomach plummet down at the speed of a firebolt:

Miss Swan,

I believe we still have unfinished business to take care of. Although I much prefer the quiet of the Slytherin common rooms, its obviously not an option. Therefore, meet me in the room of requirement at precisely 8:15. I trust you will figure out where that is. It is not a very well known area, but I believe there are two members of your house who can help you out. And do not worry about being out after curfew, I am after all a prefect.

Do show up, dear, and on time. Remember what I said about my bite.


Regina Mills.

Emma was pretty sure by now that both her stomach and heart were now lying in front of her feet, because she was finding it hard to breathe and she wasn't quite sure why she hadn't thrown up yet.

And looking up, Regina was staring at her. Those eyes once cold now scorching and relentless and looking right into hers. Right into the very depths of her mind. Maybe she should learn occlumency. Regina rose her goblet and sipped it, nodding her head after she did so. Emma's eyes never left her even as Regina broke the contact and made a polite goodbye to Killian before exiting with flair and billowing dark red cloaks.

"Seriously, Emma. What's up with you?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Yeah, did Mills get your head too in that last match?" David joked.

"Maybe." Emma murmured, eyes still fixed on the last place she saw Regina. And maybe more than that, if the beating in her chest was any indication.