AN: Random act of insanity, inspired by poor Aiden Lynch, a little-explored, but relatively famous character. Written a few months ago in my journal, I found it this evening in science class (what better way to waste my time than to go through old journals) and decided to type it up. Here is the result. Slightly funny, slightly angsty, a little bit of OC-ness and OOC-ness. No real plot, but then, what can you expect when the plot bunnies haven't been fed in a month?
"Sister Knows Best"
Arms wrapped tightly around Connelly's waist to keep from slipping off the broom, and dazedly happy that they had won the Quidditch World Cup, Aiden Lynch was bleeding and reminiscing, lost in the old days, back at Hogwarts.
'Aine always did say I'd fly straight into the ground if I wasn't careful,' he mused, light-headed.
!#$&flashback&$#!
The seventh years looked up when the Lynch twins burst into the common room, screaming their heads off at each other. Well, actually, Aine was screaming. Aiden was trying to defend himself and looking rather sheepish at once.
James looked over and rolled his eyes. Ever since Aiden had started to play Seeker for the House team, Aine had been fretting that he was going to end up killing himself. 'It's not that he's not a good player, Potter,' she'd told him once when he'd confronted her about it. 'It's just that he's too daring sometimes, and…well, we all know he can't see for shit without his glasses.'
Poor Aiden was looking harangued and James had a pretty good idea why. Aine had come down to the pitch earlier to watch the tail end of practice. Just in time to watch her brother fly head-first into one of the goal posts. To be fair, he had caught the Snitch, which is why he'd been headed in that direction in the first place.
But he'd broken his nose and ended up with a concussion, and Aine had just about had it. As evidenced by her shouting. "It's the principle of the thing!" she screeched. "You're going to kill yourself one day, and then where will I be?"
"It was a little accident, Annie," Sirius said from his corner. He knew instantly that he should have hidden behind his book and let Aiden and his sister argue. She turned a very dangerous glare on the dark, popular boy that promised a swift and painful death if he spoke again.
"He's right!" Aiden exclaimed, using the opportunity to slip into the conversation and hopefully head his sister off. "Things like that happen in Quidditch! Besides, I caught the Snitch, didn't I?"
"It's the eighth time you've broken something!" she shouted. "The eighth. Bloody. Time! You're going to end up plowing straight into the ground next, and snap your neck!"
"Easy, Aine," James said, stepping in to defend his teammate. "He's fine. He's a great flyer and a very skilled Seeker. Injuries happen. Do you know how many times I've broken my arm or my nose, or how many times Sirius has broken ribs and fingers? It's Quidditch; it's violent!"
Her eyes narrowed. "James Potter, if you don't sit down, shut up, and let me deal with this, I'm going to hex you," she growled, sounding too much like a wolf for his comfort. Sure, he hung about with a werewolf every full moon, but Moony was controlled, and male. This was a rabid she-wolf defending her 'cub.' Not something he wanted to mess with.
So he smirked and replied, "You just don't understand Quidditch." Then he returned to his seat, leaving her there, ready to explode.
"I promise to be more careful," Aiden broke into her mental tirade about incompetent Quidditch captains and bloody arseholes who thought they were wonderful. Arrogant pricks. She turned her anger back on her brother and saw the hope in his eyes.
Sighing, she backed off. "One more accident, Aiden," she said, much more calmly than before. "One more flight into the commentator's box, or the goalposts or the stands, and I'm writing to Mother."
"I promise to be more careful from now on, all right? I'll even wear my glasses during games, if that will make you feel better."
Sighing again, shoulders slumped in defeat, she turned and started up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Foot on the bottom step, she turned. "I still say you're going to end up plowing head-first into the ruddy field some day, Aiden. Mark my words and mark them well."
!#$&end flashback&$#!
His dazed smile grew. She had been right. 'Must have had Seer blood in her veins,' he mused. 'Too bad she never got to see me. I'd have let her say I-told-you-so after this.' His elation somewhat dimmed by the knowledge that his sister, the only person who had ever worried about his health and safety like their Mother once had, was unable to see him win the World Cup.
'Oh well,' he finally decided. 'This game was for all of our loyal fans. Even the dead ones.'