THREE

"You know, I had this feeling for the past two days that I was forgetting something important," Douglas huffed between long panicked strides across the empty courtyard.

The morning rain had ceased and was now being replaced by a bright glossy sun, but with Douglas's recent revelation, the two students had no time to stop and enjoy it.

Eve followed her friend closely behind, almost entirely convinced one of them was going to slip and fall as they trenched their way down the muddy castle grounds.

It was Sunday afternoon, 1:14 to be exact, which meant the pair were precisely 14 minutes late for their first quidditch meeting.

"You would think Wells would have reminded us, I mean, we basically live in the same room together," Eve reasoned, dodging a particularly deep puddle.

Finally, they reached the quidditch stadium, making their way into the direction of the Hufflepuff locker room. Their loud arrival caused the rest of the team to turn in surprise. Wells had already found a place standing in front of the group, his hand holding a parchment assumed to be filled with talking points.

Eve and Douglas stood for a moment, sheepishly look at him in anticipation, but the expected reprimanding did not come. Wells only smiled and motioned for the pair to sit. Eve and Douglas shared a quick look of astonishment but just as quickly took their seats. Douglas sat next to an unimpressed Dawson, while Eve took a spot next to Emily Forrest, a seventh year and the team's only remaining beater. Eve nodded towards her, and the two girls exchanged grins. Wells nervously cleared his throat.

"Well, okay. Since everyone is here now," Wells began, bringing the attention back in his direction, "we should get started."

He paused, glancing one last time at his parchment before folding it back into his pocket.

"I would just like to start by saying that I've taken on some roles as captain only in an effort to manage the team as we approached the incoming school year. That does not by any means officiate me as the actual captain. I am asking now if anyone would like to nominate themselves for the role, and from there, we can decide together."

The room remained quiet at this, the teammates glancing at one another with shared hesitation.

"I think you will be great," Eve finally answered for the group. She said this with a smile of sincerity, and the rest of the team nodded in agreement.

The now officiated captain beamed with modest pride at his team before clearing his throat and continuing again.

"With that out of the way, we should pick an early date for tryouts. Obviously, this is standard procedure for you guys, but we do have two official spots to be filled…" his voice trailed off awkwardly as he said this, and Eve thought maybe she saw a slight glimmer of tears in his eyes.

It was Douglas that filled the conversation next.

"Well, Branson won't be impossible to replace," he began, referencing Kenneth Branson, who had been their second beater and who had recently graduated, "I'm sure someone from last year's tryouts will show up again. Seeker, on the other hand, will be a bit more difficult to replace unless we get our own Potter miracle in a first year."

Douglas, of course, was referencing Harry Potter making the Gryffindor team his very first year as a seeker, much to the astonishment of the rest of the school. Many of his Gryffindor peers had gloated that little Harry had barely been a couple days into flying lessons when he got the position. Eve herself had only made the Hufflepuff team her third year.

"If anything, one of us can take seeker. We all have enough years of speed on us to do it," Emily added, earning nods from Douglas and Dawson.

Eve glanced back at Wells, who she knew undoubtedly was the fastest of the remaining group. They met eyes, and she wondered if perhaps he was thinking the same thing. He didn't say anything else about the topic, though.

Formalities between the group were soon worn out, and before long, Wells dung into his sports bag, pulling out his earnestly promised bottle of fire whisky. His team cheered as if it were a tied game, and he had just caught the golden snitch.

The captain quickly twisted the cap off, the bottle almost making it to his lips before he stopped and lowered his arm.

"Here's to Cedric Diggory, a wicked seeker and, somehow, an even better friend."

Wells took a generous swig and the rest of the team 'whooped' in encouragement. He graciously handed the bottle to Emily, who took it with a grim look.

"I have to study later," she mumbled, earning an unsparing amount of booing from her company. She rolled her eyes, taking the tiniest of sips and quickly handing it to Eve.

"To Cedric," Eve toasted, holding the bottle up briefly for dramatic effect before taking her own hefty gulp. The burning sensation earned an immediate grimace from her. Eve came from a more wine-inclined household, but she kept down the golden liquor all the same.

Dawson grabbed the bottle from her hands and took his own swig. He paused for a moment before taking another long gulp, shrugging when he noticed the shared raised eyebrows.

"That's for two weeks' worth of Umbridge."

The group laughed at this comment before Douglas found the bottle in his own hands. He wasn't much of a drinker, and Eve could see that he glanced at the bottle with mild hesitation. But after a moment, he took a small swig from the bottle, muttering "Umbridge" under his breath.

"Yeah," Wells began, finding his bottle back in his hands, "I bet you even Ced would have had something bad to say about that lady."

"Yes, in his own polite shit-talking way," Douglas replied, garnering a few light somber laughs.


And the rotation of the bottle and nostalgic memories went like this until the fire whiskey was no more.

With the mention of good weather, the team eventually found their way outside and onto the quidditch field. Since Eve and Douglas, amid their tardy panic, forgot to bring their brooms, they decided to take turns riding.

Currently, Emily hovered in front of the lowest goal hoop, with Wells and Douglas rotating between passing the quaffle to other another and trying to make it past the honorary keeper.

Eve watched from a spot on the grassy pitch below, having decided after only 10 minutes on Emily's broom that it was too much work for her slightly intoxicated state. She could see both Douglas and Wells haphazardly manage their positions in the sky, the pair carelessly swaying ever so often between off-centered goal shots at Emily. The latter easily guarded her post in her sober state.

Douglas threw a particularly askew goal attempt, the quaffle bouncing straight off the hoop post and start plunging down. Thankfully, Emily, in her quick flying, dived for the ball with ease. Although she wasn't able to hear the conversation ensuing, Eve could listen to the echo of Wells's laughter at such a failed attempt.

"Dempsie!" Dawson screamed from his spot on the grass next to Eve, "If you're going to continue to play like a bloody newborn goat, I want my broom back!"

Douglas glanced in the direction of the pair on the floor and relinquished, steadily flying his way down, awkwardly stumbling as his feet hit the grass below.

"The goat is done," Douglas sighed, casually tossing the Nimbus 2005 back to its rightful owner and plopping down on the other side of Eve. Dawson was already back on his feet by this point, kicking off the pitch and flying off towards the other group in the air.

The two on the ground watched the others reassemble in the sky, Dawson seemingly deciding to kick Emily off of her keeper post and forcing her and Wells to try their best with him.

"Let me see what you were working on."

Eve's attention snapped back to her friend beside her, and then the notebook opened on her cross-legged lap. She handed it to him, and he took it into his own lap, examining the page it was open to.

Before being entirely engrossed in her teammates' antics, Eve had been working on a rough doodle of Wells. She had drawn him in his captain uniform, floating mid-page on his broomstick, a quaffle tucked under his arm, and a winning smile on his face. Hufflepuff Quidditch Tryouts graced the top of the page, with the assigned date and time on the bottom.

"You know, it weirdly looks exactly like him," Douglas noted with a smile, handing Eve back her work.

"I'll charm him to fly around the page once it's colored, of course," she replied, taking the notebook and giving it a gentle toss on the grass next to her. She knew she had no motivation left on this present Sunday to finish it.

The pair sat in silence for a bit, having decided to lounge back on the grass entirely now and watch the disaster of a half-formed quidditch game that ensued overhead.

Eve closed her eyes for a moment. The September air was cool with the approaching autumn season, but the sun was still bright and confident, and she welcomed the rays of sunshine to warm her face. The raspy sound of two crows calling in the distance was the only sound she heard for a moment other than her own soft breaths.

This feels normal.

And it really did.

Eve opened her eyes once again and turned to Douglas. She wanted to tell him exactly what she was feeling at that very moment. She longed to describe in perfect painted detail how, when she felt the sunshine on her and heard the crows calling ahead and felt the presence of her closest childhood friend next to her, she felt what it had felt like before everything happened last year. Before the boy who would have been joining in on this Sunday afternoon had left them behind, only to be brought back as some still form of what had used to be life. The image of Professor Sprout's sleeping tulip came to her mind.

Maybe it was her slightly hazy state or the nerves of bringing up a fresh wound to an unsuspecting recipient, but she decided to stay quiet in the sun.

But her eyes remained on Douglas, and she watched his handsome face splashed with golden rays. His eyebrows scrunched close together in great concentration as he watched the scene in the air. His hazel eyes danced between each player with quick effervescence.

He must have felt her gaze lingering because he turned to Eve after a minute or two and sent her an inquiring expression.

"You ready to head back?" he asked.

Eve shrugged in contented indifference.

"Yeah, let's go," Douglas continued, taking one last look at his teammates and picking himself off the ground, "I'm starving anyway."

Eve murmured in agreement at this, mirroring his actions of getting on her feet. She bent to pick up her notebook, and her folded jacked that had been made into a makeshift pillow under her head.

Sticking two fingers between his lips, Douglas let out a sharp whistle, and their teammates in the sky turned their attention to the ground. After exchanging distanced waves of farewell, the pair turned and started their trek back up to the castle.

They had garnered enough distance from the stadium to where the quidditch players in the air were only tiny flecks of darting silhouettes when Douglas made a sound that could only assume he was trying to suck every last breath of air into his lungs.

"You want to know a secret?"

The question made Eve turn to Douglas, a massive playful grin appearing on her face. It didn't matter how old they had gotten; the question still brought a childish apprehension from the girl.

"More than anything else in the world, my friend," Eve replied.

They had just reached the small courtyard that would lead them back to the castle's cobblestone steps. Upon looking ahead, Douglas grabbed her arm, stopping her mid-step before she could go anywhere farther into the school grounds.

Eve huffed at such a dramatic move of action but looked back at her friend for his answer.

Douglas stared back momentarily, his face a mixture of hesitation and boyish discomfort. Eve couldn't understand at all what would be such a big deal.

"I think I fancy Fernando."

This sentence made Eve's face briefly contorted in mild puzzlement, both his actual confession as well as the fact that he used Wells's first name to do it.

This really must be serious.

"And when did the fancying begin?" Eve asked, her face now growing into a playful grin.

"I don't know, really. I mean, you know we've always been friendly," Douglas shrugged, shooting a glance in the direction of the flying specks still darting around the stadium. When Eve made no attempt to reply, in anticipation for more detail, he continued.

"Well, I replied to his quidditch owl over the summer, and we ended up writing to one another for the rest of break. Nothing romantic, just like mates, you know, but it was nice. We spoke about classes, the team, that stuff," he said, shooting a small smile to Eve, but just as smoothly, his gaze found someplace on the ground.

"We actually spoke too about what happened last year. I hadn't really talked about it with anyone else. You know we were all in shock. I don't know; he just helped me feel better a bit."

Eve nodded in understanding, considering for a second to ask for details of their emotional exchange, but thought quickly against it. Instead, she opted for her best childish banter.

"So, you got a bit of therapy and fell in love, eh?"

Douglas let out a bark of laughter, rolling his eyes, but his face ended up falling back into careful mindfulness.

"Yeah," he sighed, "something like that."

"You think he bats for your team?" Eve asked, momentarily doing a memory check of times she heard of Wells's dating footprints. No girls came to mind, but she had always thought he was a bit of a private person. Most people in their house tended to be with their romances.

"No idea," Douglas shrugged again, turning on his heel, indicating their continued journey back to the castle, "I think my gaydar needs a few more years of on-field work."

Eve chuckled. She always loved when her friends utilized the muggle words she would teach them over the years. She had introduced 'gaydar' back in their fourth year, precisely one month after Douglas came out to her via passed notes in transfiguration.

Yeah, I know, she had replied back, with a doodled heart enclosing the handwritten words.

Two years later, Douglas still kept the tiny folded note in his wallet.

The pair didn't say anything more about the topic of discussion as they entered the castle walls. Eve knew the situation was up for Douglas to explore to his comfort, and Douglas knew he didn't need to ask for a promise from Eve to know she wouldn't go telling anyone of it.

Eve glanced at her best friend, imagining the prospects of a budding romance for him. The thought made her happy enough, but she also found herself feeling a slight stab of jealously at the idea that Douglas had found himself, if not a lover, but a confidant to his hidden thoughts. Someone he found he could talk to about the pain and confusion that they must have all been encompassed with during this time. She thought about the comfort a companion would be for these ideas and emotions.

At this moment, she decided she was jealous. But she kept it to herself.