A/N: Hi everyone! I hope this update find you safe and healthy. Here's the first part of the long awaited reunion match. Thanks for reading!
Christopher paused momentarily outside the stadium. He had no idea how to approach this situation. Part of him wanted to just find his seat in the stands and watch the match unfold however it might. Except the conversation with Pucey had been running through his head all night.
They were going to target Alicia. Whether it was to punish him or get back at her wasn't clear. Maybe Flint merely saw her as the easiest target since she was so out of practice. It didn't matter that they were adults now and would be playing a charity match in front of thousands, Flint still had the same bloodlust and disregard for the rules.
Christopher's relationship with Alicia was constantly evolving. Only yesterday she'd stayed to chat to him for a bit before taking Jake home. He supposed they were friends now. He'd never had a female friend before so he was in unchartered waters, but everything seemed to be going all right. They weren't arguing and they kept their topics of conversation light and impersonal.
No matter what she was to him now, he couldn't stand back and watch her get hurt because of him. Not when he could do something to prevent it. They certainly had a chequered past, but he'd never hated her enough to want to see her hurt. He wouldn't wish Flint's wrath against his worst enemy.
There was nothing else for it then. Christopher shook off his uncertainty and veered off towards the change rooms. Saying something to Alicia probably wouldn't help the situation. She could end up being put off her game and he didn't want to worry her unnecessarily. It was the job of other players on the team to protect her anyway. He had no choice but to find the idiot gingers.
He heard Flint's distinctive grunting coming from one of the rooms, so he hurried by it, his head bowed. Female laughter drifted out of the next change room so he kept going around the corner to the last one that would contain the rest of the Gryffindors.
The door was closed and it creaked loudly when he shoved it open. One of the twins was standing right on the other side digging around in one of the lockers. He looked up and frowned.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Which one are you?" Christopher asked, not wanting to draw the encounter out any longer than necessary.
"George."
"Fine. I have to talk to you about something."
"Are you serious? The match is starting in fifteen minutes."
"It's about the match," Christopher replied tersely. "I found out that –"
Potter and his ridiculous head of hair popped up from around the corner and cut him off. "Fred! Did you find it yet? We're running out of time so you might as well borrow my spare."
Christopher sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose "Wait. I thought you were George."
"No, I'm George," said the other redhead as he appeared from behind Potter.
"What the hell. How old are you two?"
"I think they'll still be playing that particular trick when they're eighty," Potter intoned.
"It's not our fault."
"You should be able to tell us apart by now."
"The day I can tell you two apart is the day I top myself." Christopher took a deep breath and tried to calm down. He was only there for one reason. "Look, whatever. You're both here now so it doesn't matter. I have something to tell you."
"You better make it quick. Oliver will be back with the Chasers in a minute."
"It's about Alicia." Christopher shut the door behind himself in case anybody walked by. "I found out from someone that the Slytherin Beaters are going to be targeting her out there."
"The Beaters are going to target a Chaser, eh?" one of the Weasleys said. "Congratulations. You've just worked out how Quidditch is played. What a shame you won't be out there today."
"Just shut up," Christopher snapped. "We're talking about Flint here so it's going to be malicious targeting. They're going to try to take her out of the game."
"How'd you hear about this?" Potter asked, folding his arms and frowning deeply.
Christopher hesitated. He had hoped no one was going to ask for his source. "It was Pucey, all right. He left a wrist guard behind and had gone back to get it when he overheard Flint talking to Derrick and Bole about it."
"We know what we're doing," (possibly) George said firmly. "It's always been our job to protect the Chasers."
"I know that, but you need to pay special attention to Alicia. Flint will make the call at some point and they'll be after her. He wants her out of the game for whatever reason, and he'll break the rules to get it done."
"How do we know this isn't some sort of ploy?" Potter asked. "You get us to concentrate on Alicia when the target is really Angelina or Katie. How do we know you're telling the truth?"
Christopher let out a weary sigh. He was getting nowhere with these idiots. "You don't. What do I stand to gain though? I was left off the team; my loyalty to them is non-existent. Alicia doesn't deserve to get hurt because Flint can't take it out on me anymore."
"It's almost admirable of you. But I can't help but notice you haven't marched into the Slytherin change room and told them to leave her alone."
Yep. The one on the left was definitely George.
"Because that would do no good. It could even make matters worse. It's in your hands now and it'll be on your heads if she gets hurt. I've done my duty to her by coming here to warn you."
"Have you though? Seems to me all you've done is the bare minimum."
Christopher turned sharply on his heel and wrenched the door open. He ducked his head out to make sure the coast was clear then he slipped out into the corridor and took the long way back out to the stands.
The crowd was chanting Potter's name now, egged on by Jordan in the commentary booth. The responding boo from one end of the stadium was rather muted. The war was long over but it didn't do anyone any favours to side against Potter, no matter what the circumstances. Any criticism of him these days was whispered behind cupped hands.
Christopher didn't give a shit either way. He was there as a fan of Quidditch so it didn't matter to him who won. It'd be a great game. So long as Alicia kept her wits about her. She'd been surprisingly confident when he spoke to her the previous afternoon. She was a solid player, but prone to getting side-tracked and thrown off when the opposition attacked hard.
He hoped maybe he'd taught her to be a little tougher over the years. She wasn't the meek little thing she'd been back at school, but his former housemates had conversely honed their own intimidation skills over the years. It was going to be an epic battle of wills.
Christopher checked his ticket and headed for the designated stand. He was sitting right in the middle of Gryffindor territory. Alicia had organised three tickets for himself, Jake and her mother. He could have bought his own ticket somewhere else, but he loved nothing more than watching Jake at a Quidditch game. He wouldn't pass up the opportunity to watch him see his mother play for the first time.
"Over here, Papa!"
Christopher noticed the little hand waving at him. Jake was already jumping up and down, decked out in red and gold. There was a corresponding twinge deep down, but Christopher shook it off. It wasn't like Jake was choosing Alicia over him – he wasn't even playing.
"Christopher," Alicia's mother said politely, giving him a cursory smile.
"How are you, Evelyn?"
"Well, thank you."
Christopher took his seat and Jake immediately hopped up on his knee. He hadn't seen Alicia's parents in years. Her father had accepted him with open arms, in fact they still corresponded occasionally. Jacob was a local bank manager, which had come in handy more than once. Being a Muggle meant he couldn't get into Hogwarts, but he would be listening at home on the wireless.
Her mother had been a little more dubious and a lot less forth coming. Christopher had tried hard for a while to win her over, but he never got very far. She likely knew his relationship with Alicia was doomed from the start. Mothers always knew that sort of thing.
"Look, grandma bought me a flag," Jake said, grandly waving a Gryffindor flag in the air.
"That's great."
"I'm glad you think so because I got you one to wave as well," Evelyn said, handing an identical scarlet flag to him.
He recognised the familiar smirk right away – he'd seen it all too often on her daughter's face.
"Great," Christopher repeated blandly.
"This is going to take forever," Angelina grumbled. "Your hair is way too long."
"I said you didn't need to bother with mine," Alicia reminded her. She concentrated on twisting strands of Katie's smooth blonde hair between her fingers.
"It's our pre-match ritual though. We have to plait each other's hair without using magic!"
"And how does shagging Lee fit into your pre-match ritual?" Angelina asked. "I'm sure that wasn't part of it back at school."
"Shut up about that already," Katie snapped, turning her head sharply and causing Alicia to drop the plait she was working on. "I told you, I missed him and it's not like there was a risk of Oliver showing up. He has a very strict rule about no sex before a match."
Angelina made a gagging noise in Alicia's ear. "Way too much information, Kate."
"How much longer do you think you can juggle the two of them without them finding out?" Alicia asked.
"Lee's staying for another week but Oliver's leaving for his friendly match against Japan in three days. I think I can manage till then."
"Then what?"
"They'll both find girlfriends eventually and I'll be off the hook," Katie said. "You're making a big deal out of something that is simple. They know I shag other people when they're not around and I fully expect they do the same. Everyone's on the same page here."
"But neither of them is sleeping with your friend without telling you."
"Lee and Oliver are hardly best mates."
"Shh," Alicia said, tugging lightly on Katie's hair. "I can hear the crowd chanting something."
"They're saying Harry's name. Merlin, he's going to regret agreeing to play today. It's one thing to have everyone think you're a Quidditch superstar – now he has to prove it."
Alicia had to agree with Angelina there. The public could be unnecessarily brutal at times, she just hoped Harry was up to it. Deep down though she was glad he was playing. It took the focus off her. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about her and Christopher; at the very least no one had asked about him during their last team interview a few days ago.
He was going to be out there sitting in the stands with Jake and her mother. That made her nervous for some reason. He'd always loved to critique her playing style and she'd always told him to bugger off. Now she wished that she'd listened to him at least a little.
"Ready to go, ladies?" Oliver asked, bursting into the change room without bothering to knock.
"Jesus! We could have been naked, you prat," Alicia scolded him.
"Still naked fifteen minutes before the match? I should bloody hope not."
Alicia rolled her eyes and quickly finished off Katie's second plait. Angelina finished a few seconds later for all her whingeing about it. They all went to put on the last of their protective pads, helping each other to tie them up like always.
"Right. Grab your brooms and let's go."
Alicia retrieved her new Comet and clutched it to her chest. It was a brilliant broom and it bolstered her confidence to know she could count on it to smooth over some of her more dubious flying out there.
Silently, the three of them filed out of the change room behind Oliver. Thankfully, he didn't subject them to much of a speech this time around. There wasn't much left to say really. He'd said it all during their training sessions. Not to mention they had mostly memorised it from school anyway.
"All we have to do is remember to play as a team. I'm sure that will be Slytherin's downfall. They were never a team to begin with, meanwhile we never stopped being a team," Oliver said firmly. "Let's go out there and show everyone we've still got it. Show no mercy, all right."
"And have fun?"
Oliver turned to Fred and shrugged. "Yeah. I guess so."
Alicia took George's hand and they left the change room together and headed for the pitch behind the others.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Nervous. Also excited and eager to be back playing my favourite game. I think I'll be fine once I'm in the thick of it and I forget about the crowd."
"Stay sharp out there. Keep your eyes open for trouble." She turned to him questioningly and he squeezed her hand comfortingly. "You know what Slytherin are like. It's not worth getting injured over a charity exhibition match."
"I'm not worried," Alicia said. "I have the best Beaters in the world watching my back."
"The best in the world now, huh?"
"Without a doubt."
The team stopped at the end of the tunnel and waited for Lee to finish calling the Slytherin team out. Alicia took up her spot in the line-up between Angelina and Katie then mounted her broom.
"Over to the reigning champs now! I have the distinct privilege of introducing the victorious Gryffindor team from the 93/94 Hogwarts Quidditch season. We have Wood, Johnson, Spinnet, Bell, Weasley, Weasley aaaand Potter!"
Alicia kicked off and zoomed out of the tunnel behind Angelina. They did a lap of the stadium and came to a halt in front of the commentary box. Lee was there beaming at them from behind his custom, gold-plated magical microphone. Behind him sat Kingsley Shacklebolt and Professor McGonagall. They were wearing matching Gryffindor scarves and cheering along with everyone else.
The crowd was going wild, showing no sign of stopping so the match could begin. Alicia had never experienced anything like. She supposed Oliver and Angelina must be used to it by now as they didn't seem bothered by the noise. People had come from all over the world for a chance to see the one-and-only Harry Potter play Quidditch. The match was sold out so there was five thousand people there, not to mention the thousands more across Europe who would be listening in to the broadcast over the wireless.
Her dad was one of them. He'd never get the chance to watch her play, but he could at least hear Lee's commentary, which was really just as good as being there. Her old boss Marie had informed her she would be listening along in Paris. Tiberius might even be listening as he sipped a cocktail on a tropical beach.
There was one person in particular she wanted to make proud. Her Quidditch-obsessed son was somewhere in the stands right now, likely screaming his lungs out and jumping up and down like a maniac.
"Unfortunately, we weren't able to coax Madam Hooch out of retirement for the match, but we do have Rufus Osmond, the eminent league referee here to oversee proceedings."
The team dove in a neat formation towards the centre of the pitch. The Slytherins were already lined up next to the referee. Flint looked even bigger in person and Alicia was glad Oliver was the one who was facing off against him. She stood opposite Pucey, who was studiously avoiding eye contact with her.
"Hello, Adrian."
He gave her a slight nod and continued staring at her knees.
"Looking good, Johnson," Montague commented, leering at Angelina. "You busy later? I've got a broomstick right here you can ride after the match if you're interested."
"Really? That's what you're gonna go with?" she asked curtly, looking dubiously at his crotch. "Because female Quidditch players never get sick of hearing that line."
"It always works for me, love."
"Not this time I'm afraid. Unless it was your intention all along to make my vagina drier than the Sahara Desert…in that case, you've succeeded. Well done."
Alicia burst out laughing and she was sure she saw the corner of Pucey's mouth twitch as well. Katie reached over and slapped Angelina on the shoulder as Montague glared daggers.
"Everything all right over there?" Fred asked.
"Your fiancée has it under control," Alicia answered.
"Thought so. Just wanted to check."
"Listen up! I want a clean game, you lot!" the referee shouted from the head of the line. "I won't put up with any shenanigans out there. Now, you two shake and let's get on with it."
Oliver shook hands with Flint then turned and nodded at the team. Everyone mounted their brooms and kicked off, taking up their positions in the sky. The ref tossed the Quaffle up towards them and the game began.
It was a frenzy for a moment as possession changed hands several times within the first minute of play. Alicia hung back, feeling overwhelmed. She'd forgotten what the pace was like at the beginning of a match. Both teams fought for dominance till Angelina took hold of the ball and shot towards the Slytherin goal posts.
Alicia followed but was too far back to be of much help. Not that Angelina needed it. She took her shot, faking left then throwing to the right. Bletchley dove the wrong way.
"Amazing! Some brilliant work from the Arrow's Chaser. Retired now of course and what a loss she will be to the league. Her stats speak for themselves, folks. A high conversion rate and consistently in the top ten scorer list since her debut. On a happier note, Miss Johnson is recently engaged and I have it on good authority that she is way out of her fiancé's league."
Alicia gripped her broom hard and tried to concentrate on the game. Back at school she'd always had the ability to sink into the match, so much so that she could block out the crowd, the commentary and the world at large. That was why Oliver often made her take penalties; she had an ability to zero in on that one task and she'd had the highest success rate of any player at Hogwarts.
All she could hope for now was a chance to get into that headspace. Forget the important people who were watching on and play the game the way she'd been taught.
"That was an obvious blatching foul, Montague! Penalty against Slytherin!"
Alicia looked over to see Angelina snarling at Montague as he raised his hands in feigned innocence. The referee held the Quaffle aloft, waiting for someone to take the penalty. Alicia glanced at Oliver and he gave her an encouraging nod. She swooped down and accepted the ball. The crowd switched from booing to cheering.
"Alicia Spinnet, recently returned from a sojourn in France, steps up to take the penalty shot. This woman rarely misses and I'll bet my golden microphone that she won't miss this time. You got this, Alicia."
A hush fell over the crowd as Alicia squared off against Bletchley. She'd done that plenty of times in the past, but now he was a professional player. He wasn't the best Keeper in the league (Gryffindor had him in front of their goals) but he was still a decent enough player who had years of training behind him. She couldn't focus right now on how outmatched they were. Nor could she simply shoot and hope for the best. She wasn't the type to think all you had to do was believe in yourself and visualize something in order for it to happen.
Alicia did know that she had worked her arse off over the last couple of months. She'd put in the hard work and the long hours. She was back up to scratch and there was no way she could let her nerves get the better of her now. She'd come too far from that.
An eerie ringing started in her ears. The crowd was drowned out; Lee's commentary was a mumbled hum in the background. Her vision tunnelled and all that was in front of her was Bletchley and the goal posts. Her goal posts.
She shot off towards them, knowing that if she was hesitant and tentative about it she wouldn't stand a chance. Her swift approach certainly seemed to catch Bletchley a little off-guard. He started to fly out to meet her, obviously hoping to intimidate her into messing up her shot.
Alicia gritted her teeth and threw the Quaffle. It was a risky move to go for the far post. In fact, Oliver would probably give her a lecture about it later. The crowd 'oohed' as one. Bletchley's outstretched hands missed the ball by mere inches and it sailed through the goalpost.
"Spinnet with the second goal of the afternoon! What a superb start for the Gryffindor team. Let's see if they can keep up this momentum."
Turns out they could. Angelina scored another three goals before Slytherin even really got into the game. Montague finally scored their first points almost twenty minutes in. He was struggling, having to do most of the Chasing on his own as Pucey was still off-pace and Flint resembled a mountain gorilla riding a twig. No Snitch sighting as yet, but Alicia had been keeping half an eye on Harry and Malfoy, who were hovering near each other, eyes relentlessly roaming the pitch.
"Bell scores! Gryffindor leads sixty to ten!"
Alicia cheered and whooped along with the crowd as Katie wheeled around in the air and waved to the Gryffindor supporters nearby. At the last second, out of the corner of her eye, Alicia spotted a black blur shooting towards her. She ducked just in time, throwing herself flat on her broomstick. The Bludger whistled by. It was so close that she felt the whoosh of displaced air against the back of her neck.
"Foul!" George shouted. "She didn't even have the Quaffle!"
Alicia straightened up in time to see George in hot pursuit of the Bludger that had almost taken her head off. Fred zoomed over and patted her on the shoulder. "You okay there? Brilliant reflexes, kid. Don't worry, George is taking care of Bole as we speak – he's a dead man flying. You just stay sharp, all right."
The referee hadn't seen the initial incident. He did however see George's blatant cobbing foul on the Slytherin Beater. Montague managed to get the resulting penalty past Oliver.
Gryffindor lost a little of their momentum and Slytherin simultaneously found a little of theirs. They scored again, right before Harry took off at break-neck speed, aiming straight for the ground. Malfoy stayed put; there was no way he could catch up with Harry, not without some illegal play at least. He seemed to have finally learnt his lesson there. Either that or he didn't have the bollocks to try it in front of five thousand people. Alicia figured it was most likely the latter.
The crowd gasped as Harry pulled out of the dive at the last possible second. The Snitch was gone, but the crowd were on their feet, cheering Harry's name again. He looked a little bemused and embarrassed as he returned to his usual spot above the match.
Everyone had stopped to watch the spectacular dive, Alicia included. She did a three-sixty spin on her broom and looked around for her girls. Angelina had the Quaffle nearby, and right before Pucey closed in on her, she threw it. As Alicia reached out to grab it, another Bludger hurtled towards her. She dodged it quickly and returned her attention to the Quaffle.
She reached out, her fingertips touching it briefly. At the same moment, in her peripheral vision, Derrick swung his bat upwards. He connected with the underside of her arm, right where there was a gap in her wrist guards.
Alicia was sure she heard her bones snap, even over the noise of the crowd.
A/N: Next chapter is half finished already so hopefully will be up in a week or so. Thanks for reading, reviewing, following. It really spurs me on to keep writing when I know people are looking forward to my updates. So thanks, guys!
