ROUND 12 - Pretty Windmill
Chaser 3 Falmouth Falcons
You'll be writing about two characters in a school peers relationship
Characters: James Potter and Sirius Black
Optional Prompts:
2. (scenario) a quidditch accident
4. (word) name
9. (object) windmill
Beta: Aima D. Duragon and QueenVulca
Word count: 1168 (without A/N)
I'm going off the 16 October 2000 Scholastic Chat with J.K. Rowling for what position James played, not the movie trophy engraving.
James was sprawled out on the rug in front of the fire in the common room; whining about not being able to practice to anyone within earshot.
Sirius snuck in towards the end of his rant and James rolled over and got on his knees, dramatically pretending to beg.
"Please, Sirius, I really need to practice and the other Chasers won't talk to me!"
Remus snorted, looking over the top of his book, "Well, maybe if you hadn't charmed all their gear neon pink, they would."
James waved him off. "It's not my fault, I was aiming for the snakes. Anyway, Sirius, please. No Bludgers this time."
Sirius let out a huff before following James down to the pitch. As they passed the great hall a few girls overheard their discussion and started to follow them out to the pitch.
"It's not the Bludgers, James. It's-"
"I know, I know. Your precious hair. I'm sure Marlene or Florence or Mary will help you sort it."
"I wouldn't trust any of them with my hair, James."
"Oh, right… Merlin forbid."
"Plus why can't they make brooms that are actually comfortable? I mean, cushioning charms only do so much, Prongs!"
James just laughed and grabbed a spare broom from his locker for Sirius before grabbing the Quaffle from the trunk and hopping on his broom to warm up a bit.
Hopefully, today was going to be an easy day. James didn't need to run full plays; he just needed to work on balance while catching the Quaffle.
"How long are you supposed to practice for?"
"He said until I can stop favouring my blasted right arm when I catch."
"So, we'll be here until curfew?"
"Funny, Pads. It shouldn't take that long."
"Well, I mean… if it does, we'll just have to make a trip to the kitchen when we get back. I can't go without dinner."
James snorted. "No, of course not. Now shut it and let me get up to speed again. I'll start with my right side towards you to make it easier."
"I don't understand why this is even necessary. I mean… you can catch the ball so it's not like you can't play."
"Well, if we're weaving, I need to be able to catch no matter where I am in the pattern."
"Okay, but can't you just use your right hand no matter what?"
"What if I injure my right hand?"
"Then I think the quaffle won't be your focus anyway. I mean, you can't hold it and the broom at the same time."
James shook his head and flew away, both of them convinced it was pointless to try to fix the other's way of thinking. He took a few laps around the pitch before whistling for Sirius to toss the Quaffle.
After an hour or so of tossing at James' left side, he switched directions and started the amusing process of trying to ignore his instinct to cradle the Quaffle with his right hand.
It proved to be almost amusing enough to make Sirius laugh himself off the side of his broom.
On the fifteenth attempted technique, James was able to control the Quaffle enough to not mess up his flight too much.
Sirius had spent most of the time in the centre of the pitch, watching James fly laps. His only job was to watch James and try and catch him off guard with his tosses. Which made it really easy to miss when a few of the girls that had followed them down to the pitch to watch them ran into the trunk and freed the Bludgers.
The girls had tried yelling to catch their attention, but neither boy could hear them.
James had just caught the latest toss when Sirius started to fall; a Bludger had hit him square in the back and he wasn't able to grab the broom fast enough.
He turned to toss the Quaffle back to Sirius only to see him hit the ground.
"Sirius, Sirius! Can you hear me?" James yelled as he sped down to the pitch, letting the broom drop as he took the few steps to where he fell. He quickly pulled his wand and called back the Bludger, sending it flying back into the case, yelling towards the girls to lock it up.
"Um, yeah, I think so."
"You think you can hear me?"
"Well, I mean... I could be imagining you, James."
James rolled his eyes. Sirius was always so dramatic when he got hurt. "Well, let's assume I'm real."
"Sure."
"Okay, um, you hit your head… Do you remember your name?"
He smirked. "Keith Richards."
"Oh no, oh crap this is worse than I- wait- that's someone famous isn't it?"
Sirius laughed. "Yup."
"Prat. Come on, I need you to really answer."
"Sirius Orion Black. Former Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, one-quarter of the most handsome group of-"
"Okay, okay… so you know your name."
"Of course I do, I'm just a little sore, it's-"
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Um… None," he said, looking at where James was holding his shoulders.
"Oh, right, how about now?"
"Three. Really I'm fine James. Let's just-"
"One more- What hurts?"
"Mainly, my shoulder and my side."
James pulled the neck of Sirius' jumper over and saw the starting of a bruise- that was going to take a few days to heal. "Well, it looks awful… but you'll live. Let's get you to Madame Pomphrey."
He pulled the shirt back in place and smoothed the fabric before realizing that maybe pressing on a fresh bruise wasn't the best idea.
"Let me get the brooms put away, then we can head up. Stay here and don't do anything stupid."
"Prongs! I never do anything stupid."
"Uh huh. Like I said, I'll be back, don't do anything stupid."
When he got back the middle of the pitch, Sirius had his knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them as he pouted at the castle.
"What's wrong, Pads? I mean… besides the whole hit with a Bludger thing."
"We're not the best pranksters," he sighed as he rested his chin on his knees.
"Okay… Why do you say that?"
Sirius just waved his hand a little to the left of the castle and then waited for a hand up. James pulled him up, still not quite sure what Sirius was motioning at.
"I mean really, James, how are we going to top such a pretty windmill?"
"Pads, there's no windmill."
"I can see it right there James."
"No, it's not."
"Funny. You're telling me you don't see the giant three-story pink and purple windmill?"
"No, I really don't."
"James, even you can't miss the shiny blades."
"Sirius, there's nothing there… I swear on the Marauder's Map."
"What? That's not something you just say, James. Don't joke about the Map."
"I'm not, let's get you to the infirmary. You can tell me all about the pretty windmill on the way."