Written for:
Hogwarts: Home Economics and Domestic Magic
Task 3 - Write about someone's feelings being hurt
Hogwarts: 365 Prompts
Prompt - Promotion
Hogwarts: Scavenger Hunt
Write a Next-Gen fic.
Bitter Pill to Swallow
xXx
"Congratulations on the promotion," James muttered, sarcasm dripping with every word. He sighed when he heard applause and laughter behind him. He looked away from the triple chocolate fudge cake, with butterscotch icing (Albus' favorite), to stare at the crowd. The whole family had gathered to celebrate Albus' good fortune. Their teammates and friends were there as well. He had been a reserve chaser for six months, and somehow, he had already made it as a starter.
James, on the other hand, had been a reserve Keeper for over a year, and he was still sitting on the bench most games, unless their official Keeper was sick or injured.
It was a bitter pill to swallow.
The brothers had never been that close as children because their personalities were so different. When they both got on England's national Quidditch team, James saw it as a way to bond with his younger brother.
He never expected to be jealous of Albus' accomplishments while James was at a standstill.
Coach Anderson broke away from the crowd and came to stand beside him. "It's a big night for your brother, huh?"
James blinked at him. "I guess. For someone who doesn't really like the spotlight, he's sure eating up being the center of attention right now."
His coach laughed. "He might get unconformable by prolonged exposure, but everyone likes to get a little bit attention every now and then."
James nodded. When one of the girls on the team came over to give Albus a congratulatory kiss on the cheek, and it just happened to be the girl James had been trying to win over for almost two months, he had to fight the urge to vomit.
Coach Anderson interrupted his thoughts about twisting his little brother into a pretzel until Albus screamed for mercy."Do you have any questions for me?"
James sighed. "I know Albus is a pretty good player, but so am I. When will it be my turn to start? Albus became a starter so much quicker than me."
"Your feelings are hurt," Coach Anderson surmised.
"I'm the older brother. I'm supposed to be the first to do everything. Albus beat me to this, though. Why?"
"Both of you are great players, but your attitudes are a bit different."
James finally tore his gaze away from the crowd to look up at his coach. "What do you mean?"
"Both of you were reserves. You did do the amount of practice you needed to stay on the team, but since you weren't a starter, you didn't see a reason to push yourself to do more and to get better. Albus, on the other hand, used to stay on the field and practice an extra hour every night. Being a reserve made him work even harder to prove himself. In some ways, you're a stronger player, but Albus has more determination, and I think his work ethic will make up for what he might lack in skills."
"So it's my fault."
"I didn't say that," Coach Anderson rushed to reassure him, "You'll become a starter eventually. I just think Albus was ready now because..."
"Because he practiced more. It is my fault. You can say it, Coach. It's obviously my fault. If I practiced a little more, maybe I would have become a starter by now."
Coach Anderson clapped James on the shoulder. "I know you're disappointed. Your feelings are hurt, and you're probably feeling bitter towards Albus. It's his big day, though. Maybe you should go congratulate him. He'd congratulate you if the roles were reversed."
It felt like he was second to Albus right then. He wasn't used to that feeling. He loved it when people were proud of him, but no one was singing James' praises. "Maybe later," he muttered, walking away from his coach and leaving the pub.
Maybe he was being petty, and Coach Anderson was right. Albus would have been happy for him if James had made a starter first. So, not only was Albus the better Quidditch player, but he was also the better brother.
Sometimes, life sucked.
(word count: 683)