A/N: Firstly, sorry for the delay. Secondly, I made an error in the previous chapter. Mark told Teddy they needed a keeper when actually Ann Marie is keeper, as stated in chapter 2. The open position is for a seeker. Finally, and you may want to read this sentence after the chapter, this chapter begins a plot point that leads to slash which will continue throughout the series.

Chapter 6: Pitch

Jones

---------------

When Madame Dolores came for Christmas last year, I knew her secret. I was puzzled why she hadn't told my parents the truth after they found out I was a wizard, but it wasn't my secret to tell. As much as possible, I avoid returning to my family during the holidays, but this year, I had no excuse. So, like the good son I'm not, I sat there at Christmas dinner in between Natalie and Madame Dolores and acted like I belonged.

The food was great, as always, but the conversation was dreadful. Dolores, the younger, recounted her dance competition in excruciating detail and I pretended to care. I lasted through the meal, which is an accomplishment, but I just couldn't make it past dessert. As Mom passed me a plate of Yorkshire pudding, she asked in her sweet voice, "so, how's school."

"Do you actually care?" I said before thinking.

"Of course, I care. You're my son."

"Ok, so you want me to recount my exploits studying for class and pursuing academic excellence? Warning, the following story does not contain awards, trophies, or artistic expression."

"Jones, watch it. This is your mother you're speaking to." Thank you, Dad for the obvious and non-specific critique.

"What did I do? I was merely reminding her that, unlike my siblings, I don't seek glory and recognition in everything I do."

"Jones, please don't start this with Mom," Dolores said reflecting on the argument we'd gotten in last night.

"Fine," I replied, "I'll just go back to sitting here silently and not making waves." I stuck to my word and ate my dessert without speaking. I had half expected Mom to pursue the discussion further, but she just started talking about her students and the upcoming musical auditions.

After dinner, I went into the kitchen to help with dishes, but Mom shooed me away saying she could handle it, but meaning she didn't want me in there. I sat on the sofa in the living room and stared out the window wondering what Christmas was like at the Lawrence house.

I felt someone sit down next to me, and looked up to find Madame Dolores.

"That was tasty," she said opening the lines of discussion.

"And brutal." I replied. "How do you take it? Living in the mundane Muggle world."

"Ah," she said in her all-knowing way. It always struck me how you could hear the wisdom behind her words. "I see you've been doing some reading."

"I was reading about Divination while thinking about what classes to take and your name came up. How do you do it?"

"Well, Jones, the first thing you have to realize is that just as no two Muggles are the same, neither are witches and wizards. You have a disdain for Muggle society; I happen to love living among them. It doesn't frustrate me the same way it does you."

"True.' I responded when she stopped talking.

"The other thing is that these people are your family. They share your blood, and that means more than you think it does. No matter how different you may seem from these people, you are part of them. You can't pick your family, even an idiot knows that, but it takes a truly wise person to realize that even if you could, you wouldn't pick anyone else."

I thought about these words for a long time. These people are related to me, and I couldn't change that. Did I want to, though? Hell yes. Eventually, I decided that despite what she says, I don't belong with these people. Yeah, so maybe she was a Seer, so what. Her claim to fame had nothing to do with anything she did. Besides, she decided to spend her life with the circus. What does she know?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Linor looks at me as though I'm on something. "Quidditch, now?"

"Yeah," I reply, "And you should decide quickly because Mark's coming this way now." He is flying toward us, not bothering with any variety of curved path. I zoom towards him attempt to grab the pouf as I pass him. He sees me coming right before I get there, and swoops off to my left. I turn and take off toward him, but am surprised that Linor has, surprisingly, joined the game and stolen the pouf.

I turn and try to find out where Kathryn had gone. I spot her heading toward Linor and race over. Noticing the tilt of her head, I fly underneath her and catch the pouf she has dropped. As I accelerate toward the goal posts, I move into the Quidditch mindset. Although I am not as passionate about the game as Mark, I do love the feeling of zooming around the field. When I play, the world shrinks to only include the field, and that relief is unbeatable.

Alex is flying around the center post. Although he is pretty good, I feel I can get the pouf by him. Taking a quick feel to try to measure the difference in weight between the Quaffle and this pouf, I aim for the left hoop and shoot. By not giving myself much time to aim, I am able to score the first point of the game.

I turn and fly back across the field, ready for the game to continue. Mark flashes me a look that says he'll get revenge, but I am not deterred. The glare is common on the pitch.

Linor is flying on my left. She has a bit of a smirk that I like seeing. She loves to win, and now that she's decided to play, she's playing to. I think to the perfect drop pass we did, and wonder if we still have that connection that I had thought lost after last year. I have no time to worry about this now, however, as Kathryn is coming down the field, pouf in hand.

The game continues quite competitively. Teddy and Kathryn keep us from getting back at the posts, and when we accidentally let them through, Teddy makes a pretty spectacular save. I don't think about the fact that I'm on detention. I don't think about the fact that Professor Potter may come back at any minute, I just play.

A little later, with the score 30-10 in our favor which is likely due to Teddy, Professor Potter returns to the field. The action stops quickly, but, instead of panic, I feel relief. We all fly down and dismount. Professor Potter strolls toward us with a knowing look on his face.

"All finished," he says when he reaches us.

"Yeah," I reply, "nice and shiny."

"Good, well then I'll guess I'll see you all on Monday."

"So we're not in trouble," Alex says frantically. Tactless time to ask, but a good question.

"For what?' Professor says, "I didn't see a thing. Good night."

After he leaves I turn to Mark and Kathryn. "See I told you we wouldn't get in trouble, and I told you I would kick your ass."

"Whatever," Mark says, "we would have won if we had kept playing."

"Bull," Teddy adds," I guess we can go back up to the castle." We start off, but I stop. Once again, Linor is walking a little ways behind us.

"You guys go ahead," I say over Mark and Teddy's Quidditch talk. Cautiously, I slip back to where Linor is standing.

"Hey," I say carefully, "good game."

"Thanks." She seems completely uninterested in me. "You too."

"So…"

"Look," she snaps, "I'm not interested."

"You don't even know what I'm about to say."

"Yeah, I do. I'm sorry, let's put it behind us, you're my bloody BFF. I'm not interested."

"I get it. I did something inexcusable, but that was then. True, most people don't change, but why won't you take the chance that I have."

"Because I know, full well, that you haven't. You still only care about yourself. You still meddle where you have no place to. You still…"

"So I have no place trying to help my friend? I was pushing you where you wouldn't push yourself."

"No, you were sick of me talking about it. You were trying to resolve the situation as quickly as possible, regardless of the outcome."

"I wanted the best for you."

"You wanted me to stop." She stops walking and turns to me. "I don't get it. Why would you do something so stupid? You're smart, obviously, so you knew that it would turn out badly, but you talked to him anyway. Why did you want to hurt me?" As much as I want to tell her she's wrong, there's some part of me that knows she's right. It was about my annoyance. It was about me. It should have been about her. Even so, I didn't want to hurt her.

"I didn't," I choke out, lost for words.

"Whatever."

"I just wanted you to stop worrying about him." The words come from somewhere inside of me, but I don't summon them. "You knew it wouldn't work out, and don't try to tell me you didn't. I understand that I screwed up, but can't you forgive and just get over it."

"I am over it." She looks at me with anger etched onto the worry lines that have permanently settled on her face. "But I will not trust you again. I will not allow you to hurt me again."

"I won't."

"Maybe not, but I can't risk it. I can't risk having a friend who may hurt me. Good night."

As she storms off, I feel myself wanted to talk back. I cannot let her have the last word. "Is that why you don't have any friends at all? With anyone you trust there's a risk that they betray that trust, but that doesn't mean we don't take the chance. If you are going to be too afraid to make the risk, then you are going to spend life alone."

She turns back to me and glares. She looks like she's about to yell at me, but decides against it. She shakes her head and walks back toward the castle. I give her a minute to put some distance between us before following. My mom once told me that if someone is truly your friend, then it is always possible to repair any damage to your relationship. My mom also told me that Madame Dolores graduated from St. Steven's School for Exceptional Children. There's a lot my parents don't know.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes I just want to scream. I let it build up, and it has to come out. Somehow, however, I keep from bursting, or maybe I've just postponed the explosion. I can't let it happen. I have to be the strong one for Kathryn and Mark. They don't realize it, but they put pressure on me to be stable. I'm not, though. No one is.

Saturday is one of those times. I'm getting nowhere with Linor, school is school. I hate standing still. After dressing and eating breakfast, the three of us work on homework in the common room before Mark and I head for Quidditch Tryouts.

I'm worried about finding a new Seeker. There position is vital, and without a strong seeker, the game is lost. Beaters are easier. Lots of people can hit things.

We get to the pitch and get dressed. Flying out on the field, I can see the first groups of potential players coming from the castle. I notice a couple of the guys from my room, but most people I've only seen here and there.

"So," Anjali says after we've all warmed up a little. "I think I'm going to let a couple of potentials out at a time as one of the positions. You two," she nods her head in my direction and I see that Mark is flying next to me, "should be careful because I'm telling the beaters to play as though they are on the opposing team."

Tryouts are uneventful. Mark and I play decently with the exception of a pretty impressive shot I make on Ann Marie. We manage to get a really talented fourth year named Michael Morrison as our seeker. No one, with the exception of our current remaining beater Julie, shines, but Todd from my room does quite well and gets the slot. As is expected, other team captains come out to spy on our team, but I pay them no mind.

After practice, I hold back to give the potentials time to change first. "Go ahead," I say to Mark who looks anxious as he waits with me, "I'll see back at the castle. Plus, it'll give you two some private time."

"Thanks, man," Mark says, "you're the best." Liar. He sprints off to the changing room leaving me alone of the pitch. I begin to lazily fly about enjoying a small moment to myself.

"Wilson," a voice calls from beneath me. I look down and see James Grayson, Linor's brother and Slytherin Quidditch captain. He appears to be waving me toward him. I sigh. From what I can tell, he's an arrogant prick who thinks he's the best Quidditch player in Hogwarts history. This will be dreadful.

"What?" I say flying toward him. Why can't I just be one of those people who ignores it?

"You've been talking to my sister." Great. Now he's arrogant and overly protective.

"Look," I say, "It's none of your business what I say to your sister."

"I know," he says. He does? "I just want to ask you to keep trying."

"Excuse me?" Is popular pretty boy Grayson showing compassion?

"She needs a friend. I think you're good for her."

"Ok," I respond hesitantly.

"Great. By the way, nice shot back there." He walks of the pitch in his usual haughty way. I turn and enter the changing room which is empty by now. I'm confused, which doesn't happen often. How does he know I'm talking to her? Why does he care? And, most confusing of all, why did I like it so much when he complimented me? I still feel like bursting, but after that conversation, in a much different way than a scream.