Author's note: Look at me, still a loser for Mumford & Sons. Related, I learned that there's a surprising amount of idioms and phrases derived from boxing terms. Additionally, for the purpose of this fill we're pretending that Katie is in the same year as Alicia and Angelina. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.
Hogwarts: Assignment #9, Journalism Task #4, Write the backstory of a minor character from canon.
Warnings: Alcoholism; kicking out minor; canon character death; neglect
With Gloves Off
When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station
Running scared,
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places
Only they would know
—"The Boxer" by Simon & Garfunkel
When she threw open the doors to the Quidditch Pitch's small shed of an office, Oliver Wood was sitting behind Coach Hooch's desk and drawing out a flight formation. Pathetic.
"Hey," Alicia called. He didn't liven up quickly enough for her taste. She barked out: "You, Stickman."
He looked up. "If 'Wood' is too hard, you can go ahead and call me Oliver."
"Whatever," Alicia said. She tossed the sheet of paper she'd ripped off the Common Room cork board onto the desk. "What's this?"
Wood arched an eyebrow.
"You're on the team," Wood said. Dryly, he added:"Congrats."
"I didn't try out to be a Chaser," Alicia bit back.
"I know," Wood said, standing up. "And watch that attitude."
"I wanted to be a Beater," Alicia said. "I tried out to be a Beater."
He pushed the glove further onto Alicia's hand to make sure that her fingers had gotten all the way to the bottom.
"Make a fist," Dad told her. She did and he pulled at the glove's elastic, tightened it around her wrist, and then tied it down.
"Good?" he asked.
Alicia muttered yes through her mouthguard.
Dad kissed the top of her head, beneath her cornrows. Alicia's position and stance softened for just a second before she tightened up again.
"Get 'em," Dad said.
His breath smelled like beer. The cheap kind saved for when a lot was going to be drunk. Alicia tried not to let herself feel disappointed; she had to do this right. She just stepped into the boxing rink and looked at her opponent straight in the eyes. She was ready to hit something.
"Why did you put me as a Beater?" Alicia asked.
"I have to do what's right." Oliver said. "You know, for the team."
"The right thing?" Alicia bit back. "Did I not hit hard enough for you?"
Alicia's fist sank down onto the desk. The wood didn't crack but the desk shook.
It was a good day and so the whiskey was out. Dad reached down from the couch to where Alicia was sitting, eating pizza and drinking soda at the coffee table. He rubbed his free hand through her hair and Alicia smiled. She hadn't taken her medal or the t-shirt for the competition off yet and she didn't think she would before bed. Dad chuckled to himself, pleased.
"Once I saw that first cross come out, I knew you'd get it!"
Alicia smiled too and leaned into his touch.
"You'll go pro, kid," Dad said. "Pro, competitive, whatever you want to do. Don't forget your old man when you're rich and famous, huh?"
"No way," Alicia grinned.
Oliver looked somewhat startled and taken aback by the power of the blow. The lights in the office flickered. That seemed to snap Oliver back to reality, and not in a good way. Suddenly, he looked amused.
"Really?" Oliver asked. "You're that transparent? Your magic just shows itself when you get mad?"
"Shut up," Alicia said. "Just answer my question. What did I do wrong at the try-outs?"
"I'll do better next time," Alicia said, cleaning up her plate. She'd hoped that if she came to eat her dinner next to Dad, he'd say something. It didn't have to be about her complete disaster of her meet, it could be anything. Even if he yelled at her for holding a bag of the expensive kind of frozen fruit against her face and the boxing-glove-shaped bruise she'd earned…
"I don't know if you can," Dad slurred. "You're like your mother. Never fully in it. You gotta throw your whole body into a punch. Throw it as if you can't go back."
"I know," Alicia said. "Next time, I promise. I'll train extra."
"You were fine," Oliver said. "You were fine as a Beater—you were stable on your broom when your hands weren't free to hold, you were never parked in the sky—you were always ready to change positions and move, swift, fast, strategic, and you had a great hit."
"Great!" Alicia said. Secretly, she was proud of that great hit of hers. Really, it was just Quidditch-speak for having a good arm. "So what's your problem?"
McGonagall stood in the doorway and she was doing a really good job of pretending that she didn't smell the booze or judge Dad for the way he was slumped on the couch. Alicia tried to stand up extra straight but she was too busy looking back and forth between her Dad and this apparent witch, wondering if it was all true.
"I know," Dad said. His words were pasty in his mouth. "Her mum was a witch. Her mum was a witch. She told me she was when I thought she was cheating on me."
"Dad?" Alicia asked, her heart dropping to her stomach. "She… she told you?"
"Right before she got herself blown up in some fight on this lot's end," Dad said, gesturing sloppily towards McGonagall.
"Dorcas Meadowes is considered a heroine in our world," McGonagall said.
"She is?" Alicia asked. She turned to Dad. "Is it true?"
"Enough," Dad said, slamming his fist on the couch's arm. Alicia startled at the spike in his voice but McGonagall didn't even flinch. At first, Alicia had thought that she looked ridiculous in their living room—with the trophies, the paraphilia, bags of last week's garbage, and the red and black boxing bag dangling in the corner of the room.
"She's not going," Dad said, pointing a finger at McGonagall. "Ali and I have made a life for ourselves after Lord Whatever did whatever it is that he did to murder my wife!"
"Who?" Alicia asked. Her heart beat in her chest. "Mum was what?"
Dad ignored her. "Ali and I didn't need her or her truth or her lies, and we don't need magic now. No!"
McGonagall nodded.
"I will get going then," she said, rising and smoothing down her emerald cloak. Then, she reached inside and took another letter which she handed to Alicia. Her eyes focused on Alicia extra hard. "But it is the student's choice, after all. Hogwarts always finds a way to make itself a home."
"The problem is that all those things I said are the attributes of a good Chaser, not a good Beater," Oliver said. "Except the good hit. Actually, no, Chasers need to have great throwing arms too."
"What do you mean?" Alicia said. "All those things would make a good…"
"I need my Chasers to be fast, intuitive, calculated, agile, observant, watchful…" Oliver said. "But beaters… well, they can just be chaotic and maybe even stupid boxers in the sky."
"Shut up," Alicia snapped.
"I want answers," Alicia finally said. She rubbed at her arm. "I need to… I need to know how to reign in my magic. I need to find out more about Mum and her family."
Dad was sitting in front of the TV but it was off. He didn't look up, but she knew he'd heard her.
"Train leaves September 1," he said. "I don't want to see you after that."
"We're not even reduced to that. I've slotted the Weasley twins in as Beaters, in case you haven't heard," Oliver said, plucking the team roster she'd torn from the common room billboard from the desk.
Alicia turned to leave.
"No, wait!" Oliver called. "I didn't even tell you the most important thing about Chasers."
"What?" Alicia asked, turning back to him with a scowl.
"They have to think with three brains in one head and work as a team," Oliver said. He handed the paper back to her. "I slotted you in with Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson, in case you hadn't seen."
Alicia didn't take the paper but her standoffish stance did soften.
"I…" Alicia swallowed. "Yeah, I can read, thanks."
"I think you'd hit it off, the three of you," Oliver said. "There's a… chemistry there. A spark."
"You're so romantic," Alicia sneered.
"Trust me," Oliver said. "Rule number one of making a Quidditch team. Go to the spark."
In every compartment that Alicia looked, there wasn't any room. She sat in the hall and picked at her cuticles for most of the train ride. The trolley lady told her wasn't technically allowed but Alicia didn't really have a choice. Then, when the sun was starting to set, she saw kids everywhere reach into their suitcases and pull out black robes and ties and…
"Hey," Alicia asked a girl who got out of the compartment next to her. She got up from the garbage bag full of her stuff, distinctly aware that there was no black robe inside. She'd assumed that because this school was apparently free and pre-arranged, all the stuff on the list would just… well, be there for her.
The girl looked at Alicia and smiled. She looked the same age, though her skin was a few shades darker, and her hair was put up in twists.
"Yeah?" the girl said.
"Were we supposed to…" Alicia looked around, trying to figure out how she could ask this without sounding as dumb as she felt. "Have robes, and stuff?"
"You don't have a robe?" the girl asked.
"Nevermind," Alicia said.
"No, it's fine," the girl said. "I've got an extra clean one. My mum sewed a tag with my name into all of them even if I told her not to, but don't worry about it. It's Angelina, by the way."
"Ali," she said. Then she swallowed. "Umm, Alicia."
"They're fine," Alicia reluctantly said. "I'm just… you could have asked me what I thought about your plan instead of slapping my name on an announcement like that. I don't like being volunteered for things I didn't sign up for. I don't like surprises."
"Got it," Oliver said. "Well, I'll make sure it won't happen again should you decide to stay on the team—which I think you should. You know, to stay Angelina and Katie."
"Dear Dad,
I know you don't want to hear from me but I wanted to tell you that there's a sports team at this school after all. It's not so different, after all. I'm going to join, I think my chances are good. Try-outs are tomorrow,. It's not boxing exactly, long story, but all your training will have paid off.
If you want to hear more about it let me know and I can write to you again. My professor, she had a dad who didn't do magic too, so she makes sure that there's a way for us to send mail via the post. I would really like to write to you again.
Ali"
"Fine," Alicia said. "I'll… I'll stay in the stupid team, since you're making such a show out of explaining."
She walked out of Oliver's office without anticipating that two other girls were going to be there. Her eyes were first drawn to Katie, school robes buttoned all the way up to her neck and hair tamed in a French braid bound with glittery clips. It always took her forever to get ready in the mornings. Then there was Angelina, chewing gum and wearing the boy's uniform even if it wasn't technically allowed. Angelina was the only person that was out of the dormitory before the alarms had even finished ringing.
"My mum gave me this," Katie asked, lifting a pack of sweets labeled 'Professor Portia's Pumpkin Patties—Extra Cream.' "She said I should celebrate a good thing that happened in the school year with this, and it's a pack of three. We were thinking of having a Chaser celebration."
"Sure," Alicia said. Secretly and even if she should've known better, she'd hoped to be writing a letter tonight—but no answer had come in the Muggle post for her. McGonagall had checked yesterday. And this morning again when Alicia had asked.
"I'm free tonight," Alicia shrugged.
"Your last taste of freedom until practises start!" Oliver cried from the office. Angelina and Alicia rolled their eyes at the same time and Katie giggled.
"Come on," she said, grabbing Alicia's hand as if it was nothing. "Let's go sit in the bleachers to eat these!"
Shipping Wars
Ship (Team): Angelina Johnson/Katie Bell/Alicia Spinnet
List (Prompt): Spring Medium 1 (Friends to Lovers)
Word count: 2081