A/N: Takes place in Alicia's seventh year (Katie's sixth); focuses around the horrible Quidditch practice in chapter fourteen of OotP. Enjoy and review!
Alicia's Armageddon
It had been a bad practice all around, Alicia knew. She wasn't about to make any excuses for her team mates performing so horribly; Ron hadn't been able to catch properly, and had managed hit Katie square in the face.
Alicia would have thrown something at him if she'd had anything she could afford to lose; she suspected her broomstick was better left under her than being lobbed at his head. It took a fair amount of self-restraint to keep from flying forwards herself and seeing if Katie was alright. How could anyone be dense enough to hit one of their own team mates?
She had scowled at Ron, wishing for the Quaffle in her hands (or a beater's bat, she wasn't fussy), until Angelina told them all to get to it. Alicia had immediately flown to Katie's side and put her hand on her shoulder. The girl's upper lip was stained pink from blood and her eyes were bright.
"Are you ok?" asked Alicia, making small circles on Katie's back with her hand. She wanted to take her face in her hands and kiss her nose better, but was scared of retribution – and didn't want to give the Slytherins below a reason to make crude comments.
"I'm fine," said Katie in a tight voice, shrugging Alicia's hand off her shoulder. She avoided eye contact and pushed her dark blonde hair off her face with the hand that wasn't holding the Quaffle.
She wiped her hand across her nose, and it came away bloody; with a stab of pain in her gut, Alicia reached toward Katie again, wanting her to know she'd be okay, that Alicia would protect and look after her. But Katie shied away from the touch, manoeuvring her broom so that she was closer to Angelina.
Another stab of pain, this time in her chest. It felt like reality was coming apart at the edges and falling in at her, almost as though the world itself were crumbling.
Alicia's eyes stung, and she turned away from Katie to look at George, who was giving her an odd, unreadable look.
"What?" she snapped at him, and he shook his head but didn't take his eyes off her. Alicia decided to ignore him, and pushed her own hair back off her face. She knew why Katie wouldn't let Alicia touch her, and it was acid rising in her throat, burning and stripping away the flesh until all that was left was raw, unprotected nerves.
Then practice had begun and Alicia could think about something else; or, she could if she wasn't passing the Quaffle to her and having to watch her to read her movement … a subtle flick of the wrist and the whole direction of the Quaffle could change … she watched the muscles in Katie's arms, but the real give away was her eyes – at the last second she would glance away to where she really intended to throw the ball …
But something wasn't right – as Katie ducked under a Bludger, turned and expertly passed the Quaffle to Alicia, she noticed that Katie's nose was still dripping blood. Actually, it wasn't so much dripping now as flowing … Alicia grabbed the Quaffle and called out to Angelina.
The captain was not looking at Katie, but had her eyes on Ron. She didn't seem to hear Alicia, but blew the whistle anyway.
"Stop – stop – STOP!" she yelled, and Alicia was glad she wasn't on the receiving end of the outrage. Angelina had a bad temper, and was stressed enough about the upcoming Quidditch season. Alicia wasn't interested in Ron, however, and was watching Katie carefully, who was avoiding her gaze just as vigilantly.
"And Katie, can't you do something about that nosebleed?"
"It's just getting worse!" Katie called back, her voice thick, not looking at Angelina as she held her sleeve-covered hand to her nose. The blood was visible even against the red of her robes.
"Well, let's try again."
They played for another few minutes, but Alicia was barely paying attention to the Quaffle – Katie's face was getting steadily paler and her mouth, chin and throat was covered in blood. She desperately wanted to say something to her, just check she was okay, but she was too far away. Alicia had the horrible, heavy feeling that she was deliberately flying far from her so they wouldn't have to communicate at all.
Alicia looked way, the pain of Katie's avoidance too much to bear when looking directly at her. It was like trying to look at the sun; for the first few moments the light was strong and dazzling, but the longer you looked at it the more painful became, before you had to blink to save your eyes.
Katie was like the sun. She was Alicia's sun.
And then Angelina was blowing the whistle again, and Harry whirled around impatiently, and Angelina, Fred and George were racing toward something; Alicia turned quickly on her broom, nearly losing her balance.
"Katie," she said, half to herself, and then she was tearing toward her, Harry beside her, and Fred was pulling her half onto his broom, George carefully placing her arm around his neck.
Alicia watched, throat clenched tight with fear, as a white-faced, blood-soaked Katie, only just conscious by the looks of it, was carried by the twins toward the castle. She didn't get to say anything to her before she was gone, and as she watched them disappear her eyes began to burn.
Oh, my Katie …
She could sense Angelina watching her, but she didn't look over at her. She kept picturing Katie's limp body, her closed eyes … what had happened to her?
"Well, there's not point continuing with no Beaters and a Chaser gone," said Angelina bracingly, and Alicia looked over to her, a blank expression on her face. Angelina looked from the direction of the castle back to Alicia. A look of worry darted across her face, and Alicia tried to give her a smile to reassure her; instead, as she felt her lips curl up in an odd, disconnected sort of way, a few tears slipped from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She wiped them away quickly and directed her broom toward the ground.
Barely noticing the Slytherins' taunting, Alicia walked slowly back to the castle, Angelina at her side.
"Are you okay?" she asked, as they reached the front steps and ascended into the entrance hall. She was looking at Alicia out the corner of her eye, but Alicia refused to look at her.
"I'm fine," she murmured.
She wasn't really, though. She and Katie had had an argument the previous day; Katie felt angry, betrayed, jealous … she had heard from a Ravenclaw that Alicia had hooked up with Jack Harrison. Alicia had never felt sorrier for anything in her life, but Katie wouldn't speak to her about it – or, in fact, speak to her at all. Alicia wanted to explain herself, to tell her what had actually happened, to hold Katie and kiss her and tell her it was a mistake. That she would never hurt her like that again, not ever.
"I might go and talk to her," she said to Angelina, her voice low, and she paused on the set of stairs they were climbing. Angelina looked back at her, having moved forward before realising Alicia had stopped. She gave Alicia a reassuring smile, and Alicia felt her mouth do that strange twisting thing again; she hoped it looked more normal than it felt.
"Good luck Rocket," said Angelina warmly, and Alicia could hear the sincerity in her voice; the knot in her chest loosened slightly at the use of her nickname. She could remember a time when Katie and Angelina were laughing, calling her Pocket Rocket because of her small stature … Alicia hadn't quite understood at first, coming from a wizarding family, but Katie had explained it to her with a warm smile that made Alicia melt.
She left Angelina on the stairs and headed down the corridor, twisting the sleeve of her Quidditch robes in her hands as she walked. She hoped Katie was okay. She hoped Katie would talk to her. Forgive her. Love her.
It was a few minutes before she could work up the courage to go into the hospital wing (where were her Gryffindor traits when she needed them?), and she paced in front of the door, listening to her footsteps echoing quietly in the deserted corridor. Her palms were damp, and she kept dropping her sleeve to wipe her hands on her pants, only to absently start twisting the material by her wrist again.
Finally, she took a deep breath, pushed her dark hair off her face, and turned the doorhandle, slipping into the hospital wing as quietly as she could. As she shut the door, the feel of the rough wood drew her out of her head and thoughts. She had to stay grounded, if she was going to talk to Katie and not lose her head completely. All she wanted to do was throw herself on her and hold her, kiss her forehead like she used to when Katie was upset or in pain, and tell her she loved her. But she couldn't. She needed to stay focus and make Katie listen, make her forgive; make her tell Alicia what she could do to make it up to her.
Katie was lying at the other end of the ward, propped up on a couple of pillows and eating chocolate. She looked up as Alicia got closer, but didn't look away; she held Alicia's gaze until she was sitting in the chair beside the bed. Alicia found herself momentarily hypnotised by the strong gaze, and her words stuck in her throat.
She swallowed. Katie waited. Her face had some colour in it now, and there was no blood on her chin or mouth, though Alicia noticed a dark red patch on the neck of Katie's t-shirt. She looked away from it and found herself looking into the grey-green eyes once more.
"It was an accident," she said eventually, her voice dry and cracking. She could feel her eyes burning once more, and this time her nose joined in. She sniffed hurriedly and as she continued she looks away from Katie's eyes, staring instead and the blood-stained shirt. "He was all over me, Katie. He was saying all these things – and I didn't believe a word of it – and then he just kissed me. That's all that happened."
She raised her eyes to Katie's and found them slightly softer; her heart sped up, beating a rhythmic tattoo against her breast. The seconds seemed to stretch into eternity; Alicia felt vaguely detached from herself, and yet all too aware of how her fingers felt, knotted with each other, and the weight of her clothes on her skin.
Finally, Katie spoke.
"That's all?" She didn't sound accusing, more concerned. Guarded. Alicia understood; Katie wanted to make sure she wouldn't be hurt again, didn't want to lay her heart on the line just to have it ripped to shreds. Alicia looked into her eyes; Katie could always tell when she was lying when she looked into those hazel eyes.
"That's all," said Alicia firmly.
It seemed enough for Katie, who smiled widely and shuffled across the bed, leaving an Alicia-sized gap where she'd just been sitting. Grinning, Alicia stood up, kicked off her Quidditch boots and sat down on the edge of the bed. She felt it sink under her weight, which was considerably lighter now that Katie had forgiven her. In fact, Alicia was quite light-headed, and thought she might get dizzy from the giddy cloud that had flooded her brain.
She lifted her arm, and Katie ducked under it, snuggling into Alicia's side and resting her head on her shoulder.
"What happened, anyway?" she asked her, pulling her closer as though her nose might start bleeding again if there wasn't enough contact between them.
"Something of Fred and George's," said Katie, a hint of laughter in her voice.
"Ah," said Alicia, chuckling. Katie, her arms around Alicia's waist, giggled and squeezed her gently.
Alicia thought her face might break from the smile that had broken and refused to leave; she kissed the top of Katie's head, stroking her hair with her right hand. Katie's smell – sweet and fruity, like oranges – Alicia assumed it was the shampoo she used, and she loved it – filled Alicia's nose and she breathed it in. Surely no smell was good as this one, and never would one grab her stomach and chest so fiercely. None would be Katie.
fin.