Fixing to Fly
Chapter Thirteen
Author's Note: Okay, so maybe I missed my Saturday night deadline, as it is technically Sunday, being one o'clock in the morning here in Ohio. But here it is, Chapter Thirteen! A little short, but oh-so-crucial, and it should give the Kotter-haters a little something to feed off of. There's still much more fun to come, and I'll have the next chapter up as soon as I can. I've got exams next week, but I never study anyway, so that shouldn't really affect chapter production.
*A quick note to Jessika ~ Oh do I have some lovely plans for the whole 'Bludger to the head two minutes in' thing. In fact, it's the catalyst for a major turning point in the story! But alas, I'll say no more… *evil grin*
It's not the size that counts, it's how you use it, right? And that said, here's Thirteen.
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Waiting for their Keeper, the seventh-year Quidditch players fell into their old warm-up routine of flying laps around the pitch, the Chasers tossing the Quaffle lightly amongst themselves while the Beaters watched for wayward Bludgers. Darcy fell in half a lap behind the group, and for a moment was content to fly on her own, as her troubled mind felt electric with a thousand conflicting thoughts.
Just what had gotten into her? Acting so peculiar around Oliver… She had a boyfriend—a very good looking and intelligent boyfriend at that, though he was a complete ass ninety percent of the time. And to Darcy, who would ride the Hogwarts Express home in the spring for the last time this year, Oliver was but a child, with a long future of schooling ahead of him. The most unwise thing for her to do at the moment, she decided, was go fooling around with a fourth-year and end her existence in the familiar, comfortable world she'd worked so hard to create.
He would never love you back anyway, she muttered coldly to herself when her heart refused to listen to the logic her mind offered. She was surprised at how much that voice had sounded like Kotter…
Suddenly she started as a warm hand gently cupped her chin, and drew her gaze to the aforementioned fourth-year who had put her into such a state of perplexity. A thick rush of blood seemed to cloud through her brain as she eyed the young Gryffindor—no person in existence had ever looked so perfect, so… natural in Quidditch robes as Oliver Wood. The reds and golds did wonders against his tanned complexion, and the uniform alone had brought out a dazzling, unique smile on his features. Or maybe that smile was for something—someone?—else…
"So how do I look?" he asked, considering the female Seeker with his deep chocolate eyes. "Do I do the Gryffindor team justice?"
"I think we're going to have trouble keeping the interest of the crowd on the game with a Keeper so eye-catching as yourself on the field, Oliver," she replied, and was startled at how dangerously sensual her own voice had sounded.
He blushed, but his fingers still lingered upon her delicate cheek. "Nah. They'll never look at me, so long as they have someone as beautiful as you."
A sudden flood of less-than-chaste ideas overtook her mind as she stared back at the young Keeper. "We should catch up with the others and start practicing," she said quickly, trying to eliminate the slight glimmer of passion she knew was now flashing in her gaze. She broke contact with Oliver when she encouraged her Nimbus into a slight burst of speed, pulling ahead of him with a mischievous smile. "C'mon, Wood. I know you can outrun even the best-thrown Quaffle, but let's see how you fly against the Quidditch Queen."
"Was that a challenge?" he shot back, grinning at her.
She couldn't help the provocative purr that glided up from her throat as she answered, "Nope. That was an invitation." With that, she flattened her lithe body to her broomstick and took off like a shot, Oliver hot in pursuit, until they'd rejoined the assembly of their teammates. After she'd directed a playful smirk the Keeper's way, she said to her team, "Okay, kids, let's find out if you all can still tell the difference between a Bludger and a Border collie. Everybody to their starting positions." With that, the team flew off in opposite directions, and the first Gryffindor Quidditch practice officially began.
It took only a few moments for her perfectly peaceful practice to fall into a quick downward spiral toward ugly.
The first incident, even Darcy would admit, could have simply been an unfortunate accident, if not for the contrary feeling that still lingered in her gut. While making a low, swift dive toward a goal, Kotter had lost control and crashed into Oliver, nearly throwing the fourth-year off his broom. Kotter had been quick to apologize, and even quicker to make sure the Keeper had not been injured. Oliver, of course, good-natured and kind-hearted as he was, dismissed the whole occurrence with a smile and a wave of his hand, though Darcy herself was quite upset and ready to postpone practice till after lunch.
"The way you fuss over me, I'd think you're starting to fancy me," the Scottish boy teased her quietly as she examined him one last time with concern in her eyes.
Darcy glared playfully back at him and proclaimed, "Now I know you're injured: you obviously must have brain damage to be able to think a thing like that." She gave the Quaffle a sharp toss at his gut and swept off to tail Keely. As she passed Kotter, she admonished him in her most civil, friendly tone, "Try and be a little more cautious, huh? Wouldn't do to have our Keeper beaten senseless before the season even begins."
He flashed her a smile that was a little too smug to be sheepish. "Sorry, baby, won't happen again, I promise." This was said only minutes before he snatched Brian's club right out of the Beater's hands and used it to send a Bludger hurtling in Oliver's direction. Luckily, the Keeper possessed exceedingly keen reflexes and was able to dodge as the Bludger passed mere millimeters from his left ear.
Kotter's defense, as a markedly aggravated Darcy checked Oliver a second time for damage, was that he'd been trying to deflect the ball away from his own head, and had acted out of pure reflex. Again he apologized, and again received infinite patience and understanding from Oliver, though his other teammates and especially his girlfriend were now watching him with wariness.
The third time, it is said, is the charm, and in Darcy's case, it was the Snitch the broke the Seeker's back. She had before only caught Kotter's attempts at mischief from the corners of her eyes, but it was within her complete gaze that the Chaser committed his final sin.
With absolutely no pretense of chance or mistake, Kotter put all his considerable strength into propelling the Quaffle right into the back of Oliver's head, catching the younger Gryffindor completely unaware and sending him face-first into his broomstick. The Scot sat back up with a bloody nose and a dazed expression.
A wash of burning fury seemed to course through the Quidditch captain, to the point she could barely form words, and those she managed she could speak only at a yell. "TEAM… GROUND… NOW!!!"
When they had all found footing upon the neatly-mowed grass of the pitch once more, the maelstrom of outrage that had exploded within Darcy was now under careful control and reformed into a tight ball of hatred that sat icily at the pit of her stomach. Only the flush of color in her cheeks and cold cast of her eyes gave away her true ire as she approached Kotter and told him in a low, dangerous voice, "That is it. I have had more than enough. Get off my field."
The seventh-year male had been attempting to look repentant—and failing, as a smirk seemed fixed to his face—but at her words, his expression slipped straight into confusion, and anger. "What did you—"
"You heard me," she snapped, in no mood to be cycled through one of his little games. "Get the hell off my Quidditch field. I'm done with you and your attitude."
"You don't have the power to throw me off the field!" he yelled back when he realized the coy act wasn't going to fly. "You can't do that!"
"I do and I am, and you better get out of my sight in the next ten seconds or else you will not like the results." Her tone was one of utter sobriety, and left no room for question. "If you think I'm even kidding, then you just wait there and see." Belligerently she folded her arms across her chest and even her posture seemed to dare him to remain unmoving.
He took a tentative step backwards. "You have absolutely no justification for doing this," he muttered, grasping at straws. "I didn't do anything."
With a disgusted snort, she replied, "I don't know what kind of idiot you take me for, Baines, but I recognize an intentional act when I see one. I just never thought you would be so petty and childish for no good reason. Now you better get out of here, and pray to Merlin that he's not seriously hurt, because if he is, I'll kick you off the team."
"I didn't do anything," Kotter said again, but his voice was soft and lacking conviction.
"Yeah. You only hit your teammate in the back of the head with a Quaffle because he was talking to your girlfriend and you got jealous. Yeah, you didn't do a damn thing," she replied with startling bitterness. Silence ruled the tension-thick air for a brief moment, then for a final time she ordered, "Get. Off. My. Field."
With an unreadable expression on his face, Kotter turned his back on the team, and skulked out of the Quidditch pitch. He wouldn't speak to Darcy for two full weeks.
As the blonde male Chaser disappeared around a corner, the captain faced her team. But the looks of shock and horror that she had expected were not there; instead, the group appeared relieved, in complete agreement, and in Brian's case, downright pleased. She glanced at Oliver, who was still bleeding. "Toby, take him to the infirmary," she said, and nodded them off toward the castle. "Keely, Brian, wrestle in the Bludgers. Loren, take care of the Quaffle. One of you please let Kotter know that we have practice tomorrow from two to five, if he cares to attend. If anyone needs me… well, hopefully you won't."
With that, she made her own exit, into the locker rooms, into her dressing room, and there, for no nameable reason, she sat down and cried for a good long time.
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Once again thanks to those reading and reviewing. A girl couldn't ask for better support than you kind people.