[This is my first major piece of work in a long, long time and I wholly intend to follow through with it. I'm having fun writing it so far, because my friends will enjoy it. If it attracts fans then that's wonderful. And if it doesn't, I get the practice.]
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The first thing they tell you to in broom-riding lessons is not to let go of the broom It's a common mistake novices make, when they're caught up in the exhilaration of flight - hair flowing in the wind, sun glinting off the golden snitch fluttering just out of reach of your grasp.
I guess that's what got me into this predicament in the first place.
As soon as its wingtip ghosted against my fingertips I was lost in sensation – the sensation of falling, a heartbeat thrumming so loudly in my ears I thought it could be someone else's, and an unspoken curse on my mother's choice in cheap brooms. The burden of weightlessness relieved when I was caught by something other than the ground… or at least he intercepted the ground's catch, a flash of black and gold. Contact wasn't as hard as I anticipated but I mustn't have been far from the ground when my savior got a hold on me. He took the brunt of the impact (as a broken arm and dislocated shoulder would evidence later), with myself pulled into his chest by one strong arm. It would have seemed ideally intimate if it weren't for circumstance and a bit of panic on my part. The spherical idol locked in my grasp wasn't worth considering with a golden-haired angel humbly denouncing the merit of his actions with his head in my lap. Only when I opened the hand to empty it so I could flag down my teammates did I notice it. So did he, as its wings twittered imperceptibly.
"I was chasing the Snitch, but I caught you instead." Struggling and failing to suppress a pained whimper, humor touching his eyes and bleeding into his voice. "I'd venture to say Hufflepuff really won this match, gorgeous." Then, he laid his head back down and lids closed over those blue-green eyes as our teammates, classmates closed in on us.
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There's always a certain amount of fussing to be dealt with when injured in the company of Hufflepuffs, but in the spirit of emergency my merely sprained wrist and his more severely injured arm were taken care of at the behest of one Mrs. Elwood, Ravenclaw house head. Neither team celebrated or lamented the victory as far as I could see, which wasn't particularly far due to the fact that I haunted around my savior's bed until Madame Shepherd shooed me from the nursing quarter.
I hadn't gotten out of the door properly when something fell against my head softly. A roll of newspaper I presumed without seeing much of it as it opened over my head and slid off.
"Oh, ow. I think I need to get Madame S to check out this wicked papercut or something." I deadpanned sarcastically, if not with a touch of humor. It was an excuse, and I even fumbled for the doorknob as if I thought it would help my case. But it was too late, my uninjured arm linked around my friend's and the newspaper tucked under my other arm hastily with little pain.
"Don't ever go pulling stunts like that again," I struggled to keep up with Broderick's brisk pace and long strides, owing to my much smaller frame for the deficiency. "We couldn't win a thing without you. And the Quidditch team would suffer, too." I had to laugh at that, glad to have a friend who could advise me without sounding like my mother.
"I'll try not to. I guess you get more mindful of being a hundred feet in the air when you've fallen."
"You're lucky Ariston was there." We came to a stop, Broderick taking a moment to stroke his soul patch. His dark eyes focused intensely on a spot on the wall while he thought. "It's already all over the school papers."
"Ariston. That's his name, the one with the nice eyes?" I had to stare at the chandelier dangling overhead, students released from class beginning to pass by in the intersection.
"Yeah, and the amazing hair. But, that's not important right now." He clasped a hand down on my shoulder. "You know… "
"Yeah, I know. If we'd been playing Slytherin they'd have let me fall." He nodded, right as I caught a flash of green in the corner of my eye.
"Oh really?" Squawked one bleached-blond girl in a familiarly green uniform, standing before me with arms crossed. (Her duller twin echoed with a much less resounding "Yeah really?") The dress-code had become rather lax in Hogwarts over the years, the only reason that girl and her shadowing twin were allowed to wear floor-length plaid robes in a ghastly shade of lime green. "Better watch where you step, miss Stratton. You might fall and hurt yourself again."She hissed. ("Hurt yourself again!" her twin parroted.) Broderick wisely sought to intervene by pulling us apart.
"Now, let's be civil here girls…" But nothing could prevent the two of us from having a petty spat, especially as the hall began to clear of people heading to the great hall for dinner.
"Oh, no, no. Can't you see these ladies are in need of help?" drawing my wand from my sleeve. "Ricky, do you remember the spell that undoes bad dye jobs? Or the one that buys less garish coats?" A foolish flick of my wrist saved him from being dragged into our cattish mess, pain feeling as if it split through my entire arm. The wand fell from my hand and I took one ragged breath, maintaining balance by holding onto Broderick's arm for a moment. Not smart, I thought as I watched smug grins split the twin's faces.
"Now listen here, Scout. It'd be in your best interests to keep your hands off Ariston Sedgel." She poked a finger into my chest, well lacquered nail digging into my skin through my sweater vest, but the way she hissed my moniker grated on my nerves more than the contact. "Yours too." She said just as severely to Broderick, prompting a look between the two of us. We almost missed the sound of heavy footfalls resounding against the hard stone floor, but when a pair of pale hands wrenched both twins back by their tackily-dyed hair we were all aware of dear friend who'd been lurking about: The ever so helpful, if not brash, Dawn Jenrich. A head taller than the squad twins and much more fashionable with the shade of green given to her, our feisty friend nearly dragged the two up from the floor by their tackily-dyed hair.
"YOU bitches listen. Touch or even say a word I don't fuckin' like to Scout or Ricky ever again and I'll break off all your fingers and mail them to your parents." She really would.
"Back off, Dawn… or we'll tell what you did to Charlie on the stairwell!" The offending twin hissed through gritted teeth, sour expression screwed ungracefully. ("Johnny on the stairwell!" Her sister cried almost tearfully, as if the memory of 'Johnny' and his fate pained her further).
"I'll do to you what I did to Charlie on the stairwell if you two don't shut the fuck up, God." Before she could bring further harm to them, something our Slytherin friend had to qualms in doing. "You okay, girl? That was a nasty spill, and Rod here almost cried." Broderick stiffened and crossed his arms.
"I didn't almost cry… did I?" He questioned, but got no answer. Instead, he retrieved my wand and stood by to listen.
"Yeah. It'll take more than a hundred foot fall to take me out." That wasn't true, but it sounded cool to say. It made Dawn chuckle, so I didn't feel as lame.
"I heard you had a sexy meat cushion." My cheeks burned at the way my scarlet-haired friend put that statement, but I nodded.
"Yeah, um… Ariston, right?"
"Uh-huh, the Hufflepuff team's seeker, real sexy guy right? I say you go back down tomorrow and… check on 'em." Her hazel eyes glittered mischievously with a glint that said "If you won't, I will."
"I guess I wi-" Our casual conversation was interrupted by another voice, demanding the twins be released first and foremost. This was no ordinary hall monitor, and thankfully not a faculty member, but the almighty Prefect. Gryffindor Head girl, Ivory, came to the rescue of the dreadful twins who scattered off into separate dark hallways when released – Broderick and I agreeing on the fact that the dull one would probably get lost. When Ivory was done chewing out an unperturbed Dawn (who excused herself for dinner thereafter), she turned her fury on me.
"Don't you know that's crazy? What will mum say when she hears you almost killed yourself over a dollar store snitch?" I felt a fluttering in my pocket, as if the snitch itself were offended. Ivory wasn't to be blamed for losing her temper, but at the moment I wasn't quite acting rationally.
"I know, and I didn't do it on purpose. Mum won't know." I wanted to say she wouldn't be the one to tell her, but I'm not so brave as to step in Ivory's way. Superficially, we looked somewhat alike: Dark skin, ebony hair, eyes with a keen spark of knowledge and similarly slim, petite frames. Our similarities stopped there; from the confident Gryffindor air she carried herself with, to my choice in striped scarves and knee socks we were different. An inexorable difference in attitude that carried itself into every aspect of our personalities', dress and activities that caused conflict. I'd only taken up Quidditch in the first place because I knew it was one thing she'd never have the courage to do, though I'd come to enjoy it far more than I'd have expected to.
"We won't embarrass ourselves out here, arguing. Let's go to dinner and talk. Alright?" She said, voice softening. She hadn't meant to upset me, but I couldn't be bothered to do much more today. A heavy tiredness lingered in my bones, and my wrist ached. I waved my hand, not giving her to a chance to pressure me into something, anything that would involve informing mother of the incident. She was as close a friend as I to the rest of the group. But it felt like she simply had to have an infuriating measure of control over me and what I chose to do. Maybe it was just imagined, the product of my contemplative nature and a little jealousy.
"No, you go on Ivy. We'll head onto bed." Spoke Broderick, as if he'd read my mind. To my surprise she didn't correct him on flubbing her name (probably on purpose), only huffed and marched off towards the Great Hall. When it seemed as if Ivory was far off he looked around one last time and asked… "Is it that obvious?"
"Maybe," I answered cryptically, pulling my scarf up over my mouth to hide my grin as we linked arms and pranced off to the Ravenclaw commons.