Chapter Seven: Falling
A/N: I'm sorry. I'm a terrible, terrible person. Yep, I LIED (not intentionally, though). I thought I'd be updating frequently, but family problems and a personal project have joined forces to eat up a ton of my time. To make things worse, my old high school had its graduation just a few weeks ago, and my closest friends left to study abroad recently, so between volunteering for my old school's orchestra and seeing off my friends, I've had even LESS time. I'll be able to update more frequently now, but with my extended family in its current state, I still won't be able to manage all that often. I'd like to promise updates every week or so, but sadly, nothing's certain as of now.
In this chapter…the results of the year's first Quidditch match.
Disclaimer: I'm an aspiring author, not a ripoff artist. No bling's being made, Harry Potter ain't mine, and this fanfic is just homage to Rowling and her amazing characters/world, so no lawsuits por favor.
James makes a splash as he hits the ground.
Everyone's gasping; some are screaming. Eileen's grasping Ben's hand really hard as they look on with wide, worried eyes.
I'm running up to the rails.
Madam Arlington's the first to the scene. I notice that her wand's out, and that the patch of ground that James landed on has been Transfigured into a puddle, but it doesn't look anywhere near deep enough to prevent an injury.
The entire Gryffindor team's by his side soon, led by a sobbing Lily.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a grim-faced Stephen standing up and rushing down the stands. I realize that it's entirely possible that we're about to get disqualified since we don't have the standard four Reserves sitting prepared in the front row. James hadn't counted on needing a replacement, so Stephen's in his school robes.
Then I notice a certain figure descending the stairs from the other side of the stands.
The green-robed boy makes it onto the field even before Stephen does and immediately causes mayhem among the Gryffindors crowded around James.
Again, I find myself thanking the retired Professor Flitwick; I cast the Amplifying Charm wordlessly as I lean as far over the rails as I dare, trying to tell what's happening.
"Bugger off, I'm his brother, for crying out loud!"
"Mister Potter, I'll ask you again to please leave the field," comes Arlington's measured voice.
No response; looks like Al's ignoring her. He's now on top of James, wand drawn, muttering an incantation that I can't make out at this distance.
It's been about ten minutes since James fell when Healer Bowen makes it out onto the field. His lanky form crouches over James with Al still kneeling by his side for what seems like an eternity.
"He's alright, just a concussion and two broken ribs. He'll heal up just fine in the infirmary, but he's in no shape to be playing Quidditch anytime soon, and certainly not now," our Assistant Nurse states.
For the first time since he made it onto the field, Al takes a step back from James. The look of relief that's all over his face is powerful; I can't describe it any other way. It's a look that I've never seen him wear, not even in my childhood visits to Lily's house.
It's the first time I've ever seen Mr. Cocky-And-In-Control look utterly helpless, utterly human.
Maybe, it occurs to me, that I've judged him too harshly- and too soon.
"Well, it could have been worse," I announce as I plop back into my seat.
"Fifty bleeding points? That woman's a slave driver," Eileen moans.
"You're kidding me, Ei. She could have forfeited us if she wanted to, you know," Ben responds, eyebrows raised.
"I think it's a pretty fair compromise," I add. "Madam Arlington definitely knows how to make the tough calls."
"I just don't like that Ravenclaw's back in it so easily," Eileen says, pouting. "We were clobbering them! Seventy-sixty is a hell of a lot closer than seventy-ten."
I laugh and turn back to the field, where the players look ready to resume after the delay. Stephen's managed to change reasonably fast, and he's now wearing James's cloak. The rest of the team looks extremely anxious, especially Alex, and understandably so; with James out of commission, he's the temporary Captain. As for the Ravenclaws, well- they're not gloating, at least. Except for Corner, that slag; her grin's wider than a troll's potbelly. Davies's face is nothing but a polite mask of composure, but I notice that he's rapidly alternating his vision between Stephen, Alex, and our Chasers. There's no doubt in my mind that the Ravenclaw Captain is calculating and analyzing everything, hoping to pick out a weakness.
"Stepping in for Captain James Potter- poor bloke, that had to have hurt, by the way- is Gryffindor Reserve Seeker Stephen Kim, a brand-new addition to the lineup this year. We'll see how he fares against Ravenclaw's Harriet Yount, who's had a tough time spotting the Snitch so far in the game. It's a close game, thanks to the penalty, so the pressure's on for the Seekers, as the Snitch will most likely decide the game," Darren Finch-Fletchley's voicy rings through the arena.
Madam Arlington blows the whistle, and immediately Rachel Corner and Archer Davies dart forward, seeking control of the Quaffle. Lily manages to snatch it before ether of them, though, and she's soon streaking down the left side of the field. O'Connell's lagging a bit, but Alvin Bennet's setting himself up nicely for a pass. I spot Alima Fairouz closing in on my redheaded friend, but Grzegorz manages to distract her with a Bludger before O'Reilly can do the same. Lily completes a successful pass, and judging by the look on Jansen Noyes's face, it looks like we're about to get another easy ten points.
"Bennet shoots for the far hoop and Noyes just can't keep up. The Quaffle flies straight and true- but wait, it misses the hoop entirely! What an aiming error from Bennet."
I notice that O'Connell's shouting something to Alvin, whose face is red at this point; that git must have hurled an insult.
"And Davies is off again, this time with O'Reilly by his side as Corner, Fairouz, and Fressinet lag behind. It's an interesting strategy, having a Beater close by to peel off Bludgers. Against the talented Beater duo of Wood and Dracik, though, this looks a bit risky. And speak of the devil! Claire Wood's managed to send yet another Bludger straight at Davies, and O'Reilly's on the wrong side. That has got to hurt, but luckily for Ravenclaw, Fairouz's quick reflexes have managed to keep possession on the blue-and-bronze side. She's fast, folks, but Lily Potter is hot on her tail, and with only Corner to pass to, this isn't looking good. Wait, O'Connell's split from the center and is making a beeline for Fairouz in a very aggressive attempt to check the Quaffle away! Corner's managed to dodge past yet another Gryffindor Bludger, this time from Dracik, and she's wide open, folks! Fairouz passes, and Corner catches! She's closing in on Alex Wood, who's looking unusually rattled, and there's the shot, straight at the center goal. Unbelievable! The Quaffle soars right through, folks, and Wood's head is not in the game at all right now. It's seventy apiece now, and Ravenclaw has managed to crawl back from a seventy-point deficit with just two goals."
The looks on my teammates's faces are nothing short of heartbreaking- except for O'Connell. Watching that bloody arse get angry is a dirty, dirty pleasure of mine.
"And Gryffindor Assistant Captain Alexander Wood's calling for a time-out, folks. With James Potter out of commission, he's the acting Captain, and Madam Arlington grants Gryffindor their time-out! We'll be back in five."
"Merlin, this does not look good," Eileen comments.
"Alex looks like he's about ready to punch himself, or O'Connell, or both," Ben adds, pointing to the argument going on between the two players.
Oh god, they're leaning in…
Until Lily puts a hand on both their shoulders and whispers something in Alex's ear. He's the first to back off, and O'Connell shoots him a nasty glare but does the same.
By the time the game's ready to continue, the atmosphere in the Gryffindor stand has changed drastically. The energy of Lily's goal spree and of James's crash has been replaced by an almost deathly silence; I figure that like me, most of the other fans are completely unsure of how our team dynamic will pan out.
"And Gryffindor makes their approach down the pitch again; tension's ripe in the air, folks, as Bennet soars down the pitch with O'Connell and Potter on either side in what looks like a Hawkshead Attacking Formation. By the way, that particular formation was invented by Darren O'Hare, who coincidentally happens to share my name. But anyways, I digress; back to the game! Fressinet sends an absolutely ferocious Bludger at Bennet, but the Gryffindor Chasers are just too fast; their formation may have dissipated- and maybe their teamwork too- but there's no questioning the raw talent on this starting lineup."
Great, way to make a ruddy Reserve feel insecure. Darren Finch-Fletchley, you're a git.
"Gilbert O'Connell's got the Quaffle now, and judging by his scrap with Alex Wood, he's looking to prove himself now, and he takes the shot at Noyes's left- but what a great save! Noyes hasn't been playing incredibly well until now but it seems like the Gryffindor time-out's bought him a bit of time to recover. While the Ravenclaw team gets their offense going, let's take a look at the Seekers, folks. Kim might not have seen the Snitch yet, but would you look at the way he flies! Potter's picked a fine replacement, if flying technique is any judge. But of course, finding the Snitch is more than half the battle, and it's a battle that neither Kim nor Yount are currently excelling at."
The next half-hour or so drags by with us slowly losing momentum, and I'm appalled; the score's standing at one-twenty to ninety in favor of the team we were so confident going up against.
Now I've been a Quidditch fan far longer than I've been a player, and the sinking feeling in my gut tells me that at this rate, our chances of victory are slim to none. I'm rarely wrong on these things; even in the British Quidditch final between Puddlemere and Montrose, I had been one of the few to correctly guess the result; despite Puddlemere's early deficit, I just knew that the way Albert Galloway was playing on the day, they'd be able to come back.
That game had won Galloway his first MVP award and, indirectly, led to the controversy between Professor Galloway and the nosy parkers that we call "the press" around these parts.
"And it looks like Yount has spotted the Snitch! Kim doesn't see it yet, and this match could be coming to a close real soon, folks," Darren Finch-Fletchley calls. "Meanwhile, the Gryffindor defense is still struggling mightily, reeling from consecutive goals courtesy of Ravenclaw Captain Davies."
I follow Ravenclaw's sandy-blonde Seeker as she starts to spiral downward, toward the grass, and Stephen's still searching the skies.
"He doesn't see it," Ben's stunned voice whispers.
Eileen's grabbing my hand now, and I turn away with a sigh, waiting for the Ravenclaw section to burst into cheers.
And it happens just a few seconds later.
Why aren't people exiting the stands already?
"Another goal by Davies! That's five for him today, and he's leading the scoreboard over Gryffindor's Lily Potter."
Whew, false alarm.
"Ravenclaw leads, 140 to 100 as we turn back to the Seekers. Harriet Yount's making her approach now, and Kim looks like he's given up! He's hovering in place two yards over the rest of the field, but wait! He's diving, and he's picking up speed; it looks like he's finally spotted the Snitch as well, but Yount's already just a yard or so away and closing in steadily. Her hand's just inches away now as Kim approaches from her flank, but he's diving even lower! What in the world-"
Sure enough, there's Stephen's detour…straight toward the ground.
I can't look. My stomach's a pile of rocks, and I'm just hoping for some kind of a miracle.
The Gryffindor crowd suddenly explodes into noise; Eileen and Ben jump from their seats as I'm in disbelief.
What had happened?
I slowly open my eyes and there, above the field, are Claire and Stephen flying upward.
In Stephen's hand-
No way.
No bloody way.
"AND THEY'VE DONE IT, AND WITH THE MOST INCREDIBLE DISPLAY OF BEATER-SEEKER TEAMWORK I'VE EVER SEEN! A perfect Bludger from Wood and the tightest loop I've ever seen from a Seeker give Gryffindor the Snitch and the game, 250 to 140!"
I hardly even register the energy igniting my body as I leap up and scream with the crowd, one giant sound wave of "GRYFFINDOR" washing over the field.
Everyone's moving all of a sudden; Ben's hugging Eileen with one arm, I'm rushing down to the first row to get a better view, and a pile of red-and-gold cloaked players starts to form in the middle of the pitch after the customary handshakes with the Ravenclaw lineup.
In the center of the pile I spot Claire and Stephen getting hugged by the rest of the team (minus Gilbert O'Connell, who's already left the pitch). Claire throws an arm around Stephen and rests her sweat-soaked forehead on his, and then…
Oh Merlin.
Claire presses her lips into Stephen's, and he kisses back hungrily, wrapping his arms firmly around her waist as he pulls her body taut to his own.
They're snogging right here on the damn pitch!
I can't help but grin at the infectious happiness on Claire's face as they pull apart, and the crowd breaks out into wolf whistling and clapping.
The crowd's mostly gone by the time I make it down to the field; the entire team's still in a jubilant cluster, minus O'Connell. Seriously, that bloke acts like his broom's perpetually shoved up his arse.
"Took you long enough," I quip as I stroll up to Claire and Stephen, who are still standing less than an inch apart, and throw my arm around my blonde friend's shoulder. "I was afraid that if one of you didn't do something soon, we'd have to spend the entire year watching you two make those wistful googly eyes at each other."
Claire erupts into giggles, while her raven-haired "friend" blushes up an impressive imitation of a tomato. Alright, Claire's got taste; Stephen's pretty cute when he's flustered.
"It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing," Claire responds with a shrug. "Though I definitely wouldn't mind doing that again sometime soon," she adds with a cheeky wink at Stephen, who somehow manages to turn even redder.
"I still can't believe we snogged for the first time in front of the entire Hogwarts population. You're corrupting me with your bloody exhibitionist ways," Stephen moans with a comical grin, earning a playful punch from Claire.
"Where's Lily?" I ask.
"She went to infirmary first thing after the game," an even voice pipes up from behind me. I turn to find the tall, slim figure of our Assistant Captain; there's a somber expression on Alex's usually mischievous face. "Lil told me that I ought to stay and celebrate with the team since James would want us to live it up a bit before tending to his sorry arse," he mutters with a sad smile.
Suddenly, a surge of guilt claws at my insides. How could I forget that James was seriously injured? Was Gryffindor winning really an excuse for not going to see our wounded Captain immediately?
Merlin, I feel like a shite friend right now- to James, to Lily, and for some reason, to Al, though I wouldn't exactly call him a friend.
"We should get going," I finally manage to say. "To see James, I mean."
"Alright," Alex replies before turning up his voice. "Listen up! If you don't want to be a bloody ingrate, you'd best follow me. We've got a wounded Captain to visit."
Every single player follows Alex off the field.
It's only been a match and a few practices, but Merlin, I already love this team.
Alex and I are the first ones to reach James's bedside. Lily's sitting on the edge, staring at her unconscious brother with pensive eyes, and as we enter the room, she turns and gives me her best try at a cheerful smile, but I know her too well; she's still worried. And no wonder; James has a huge bandage covering a good half of his forehead, and judging from his hands on his abdomen, the Skele-Gro's been far from painless. I've never needed to drink the vile brew before, but stories get around, particularly when your best friends are Quidditch veterans.
I break the silence. "How is he?" I ask with a cautiously even voice.
"He's fine, according to Healer Bowen," my redheaded bestie replies. "He said James will be up and ready by tomorrow at the latest."
"Thank Merlin for Arlington and her fast thinking," I add. "You saw the puddle, right? I think James owes her a bloody humongous favor. We all do."
"It's just scary, you know. Watching James fall out of the sky reminded me of Mum's injury all those years ago. James, Al, me- we were all frightened out of our minds. You should have seen Dad; he didn't leave her side for hours on end," Lily quietly states. "He looked like he had seen a ghost, the way he knelt by the bed-"
"Dad wouldn't like you telling that story," a familiar voice interrupts from across the room. Sitting on one of the stone windowsills, partially obscured by a bed curtain, is Al Potter. He quickly hops to his feet and heads toward us.
Lily's arms are crossed, and her face screams defiance as her older brother stares her down. I turn to Alex, whose dark brown eyebrows are furrowed in confusion.
"Alex and Alice are practically family," Lily blurts in her defense. "Er- Alex, Fred, and James are pretty much inseparable, and Alice has been to our house a good five dozen times," she adds hurriedly.
"That still doesn't mean you should go around spreading more fuel for the rumor mill. No offense," he evenly adds with a quick glance at Alex, then me, before continuing. "Remember that article the Prophet wrote a few years ago? Did you forget what those wankers did?"
Lily's silent but still fuming. Alex, on the other hand, finally speaks up.
"Er, pardon if I'm interrupting, but what in Merlin's name are we talking about?"
Suddenly, a wave of recollection washes over me.
"It was that bloody nightmare article, wasn't it?" I ask slowly.
"How do you know about that? Don't tell me you believe that drivel," Al responds with a frown.
"I don't. My dad happened to read that particular article, and he was furious for a good two or three days," I say.
"Professor Longbottom pissed…now that must really have been something," Alex comments with a low whistle.
Three pairs of eyes- my own included- round on the tall Scottish boy.
"What? Ok, sorry. I'll shut up now," Alex adds gingerly.
"My dad has those nightmares too," I continue softly. "He doesn't like to talk about them- or about the war in general- but I think Frank and I pretty much figured out what happened in them, because he'd wake up at night and shout loud enough for everyone to hear. When he read the article, he wouldn't stop talking how little respect the media paid to what was lost in the war."
"Most importantly, they refuse to respect people's privacy," Al nearly spits. "When my dad was our age he already had his enough of his personal life vomited onto those bloody pages to last a couple lifetimes. If it weren't for the that git Cuffe retiring and the new Prophet Editor respecting Mum enough to stop printing articles on Dad, we'd be reading nothing but the Quibber now."
"So I wake up and the first thing I hear is you lot talking about the bloody Quibbler. I mean, I love Aunt Luna as much as anyone, but that's no way to treat a bloke," a voice croaks.
In just a split second we all turn back to the bed and sure enough, James is sitting up, clutching his abdomen and shooting us one of his famed grins, albeit a slightly crooked, pained one.
"James," Al whispers before hugging his brother with closed eyes. Lily says nothing, but she follows, and I spy a slight moistness in her eyes.
"Knew that fall wouldn't be close to enough to do you in, Jamesie," Alex adds with an emphatic arm-throw around our Captain's hunched shoulders before he also leans into the rapidly-forming pile.
"Er, can I-" I start awkwardly, not sure whether to just go ahead or not. Social interaction, why must you be so difficult? Argh.
James just laughs, and surprisingly enough, Al smiles at me and gives me a slight nod toward the huddle.
I can't help but smile back as I join in.
"Am I interrupting something?" a familiar voice rings, breaking me out of the spell of the impromptu group hug.
Standing at the entrance of the Hospital Wing is none other than...
The Slytherin Quidditch Captain?
Alright, I'll admit it: out of the people I'd expect to see visiting James, Ariadne Flint's pretty close to the bottom of the list, just a notch above Gilbert O'Connell. Did I mention that I really don't like that git?
"Nothing at all, Flint," James responds coolly despite the fact that he's still clutching his Skele-Gro-addled ribcage. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Flint just gives a shrug, her stormy grey eyes and dark brows contorted in a humorous smirk. "Just wanted to see if my fellow Captain was alright," she comments.
"Disappointed to see that your main competition is still up and kicking? If you thought all it would take to keep me down was a few bumps and scratches, I'd wager you don't know me as well as you'd like to believe, Ariadne," James responds with his cockiest smile.
"Quite the contrary; I'd be disappointed if you didn't bounce back, James. After all, we can't make the Cup too easy, can we?" the lithe Slytherin taunts in response. "Though I have to commend you on your replacement Seeker- Stephen, was it? He's not half bad…and pretty fit to boot," she adds with a waggle of her eyebrows.
"I'll take that as a compliment," James replies with his best attempt at an even voice, but I can see the color start to sneak into his cheeks. Yep, Flint's starting to get to him.
"Looks like there's competition for Stephen, eh? Wait 'til I tell Claire," Alex snickers quietly.
Lily and I just roll our eyes.
"Oh, and Al, practice tomorrow as usual," Ariadne adds.
Al laughs. "Do I ever forget, Ari? I'm not Scorpius," he quips, throwing his Captain a charming grin.
"Well, I'll be off to write up some more strategy points. Nice seeing you lot, and a speedy recovery to Jamesie," she teases while walking out of the infirmary.
Only a brief few moments pass before James smacks Al lightly on the shoulder.
"Not only are you on a first name basis with Flint, you have a nickname for her! It's Flint, for crying out loud," James exclaims comically.
"Jealous?" Al shoots back with a smirk.
"As if. She's a harpy, and not the kind Mum used to play for," James retorts.
"Ariadne's not half bad if you get to know her," Al supplies. "She can be intimidating and insanely competitive, but those are good qualities for a Captain. Plus, she has, well, an interesting sense of humor."
"She's got an ego bigger than Professor Harding's, which I didn't think possible before meeting her," he grumbles.
"And you don't?" Lily chimes in with one raised eyebrow, and the rest of us nearly fall over in laughter.
A/N: Apologies again for the late update, dear readers. As always, reviews are much appreciated, and though I'm not the most reliable author on this site, I promise that I am one who cares about what you all think and want.
