Chapter 11: Games
Jones
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Patricia Lawrence is my role model. She exemplifies this idea, the idea of having what you want, that is admirable. It's not easy for her. She tries not to let her children see that, but I can. She fights to have the great husband, the amazing children, and the successful career. I don't know if that's what I want, but I admire the fact that she knows it is. I admire the fact that she went after it. I admire the fact that she is strong enough to go for it.
I'm not sure if my own mother ever fought for anything. I'm not sure about much of anything, regarding my mother. We've never really clicked, and I have no idea why. She claims to also have everything she wants, but I see right through it. There's a certain sadness in her eyes, always present. I don't know what put it there nor do I particularly care, but I know that she isn't strong enough to fight to fix it. My mother is complacent. I refuse to be. I want to be a fighter, a Patricia. I want to fight, but maybe the fighter just isn't in me. Maybe my own children will see the same sadness in my eyes, the same complacency. The thought of this terrifies me, for isn't that what happens to us all? We slowly become our parents.
Perhaps there's little to fear. Patricia is more my mother than Alanna Wilson ever has been. This summer, I became a fixture in the Lawrence family. I thought I would be an inconvenience, but it wasn't like that at all. I became the seventh Lawrence child, and I liked it. I wished that I truly belonged there. I suppose I don't. In the end, it was all smoke and mirrors. In the end, I am stuck with the circus people. In the end, I'm one of the freaks.
Mark is just as surprised as I am that Patricia can get off work to come to the game. She wasn't able to make it last year, so this will be the first time she sees us play. Well, him. She's his mother. She gives me a hug all the same. She does honestly care about me. That feeling is amazing.
"I figured that since both of my children's houses are playing, this would be a good game to come see," she says when Mark asks what she's doing here. I love that she makes it sound like it was easy for her to make it. She wants to make this about Mark. "Don't tell you brothers or sister, but I'll be pulling for Ravenclaw. None of my children are on the other team." My parents will never see a Quidditch game. For that matter, my parents will never see Hogwarts. I can't decide if I care.
Despite everything else going on in my head, I am completely focused on this game. That's what I love about Quidditch. For the length of the game, I can ignore everything else. All that matters is getting a red ball through a shiny hoop, a far easier task then trying to gain forgiveness or figuring out how you really feel about a person. Henry, Luke, and Maria, decked out in yellow, join us for breakfast. I'm reminded of the summer, eating meals with the whole family. Those meals were some of the best times of my life. I suppose that's one thing I want, a group of people who like me to share meals with, at least occasionally.
Eventually, Mark and I have to go to the pitch to get ready. We follow Anjali's lead and walk out the Great Hall to the cheers of our house table. I always find it funny. On most days, the majority of the house doesn't regard my existence, and when they do, it isn't in any variety of reverent way. On the days of games, however, I'm a hero, just like my six teammates. For one day, the whole house loves me. I really don't care. I don't need their ephemeral affection. That's a way I'm different from my mother. She thrives on the temporary adoration of an audience.
I suppose I've forgiven Mark. To be honest, there isn't much to forgive. It's not his fault he doesn't know what's going on in my head, and I was harsh on him. He had a point in this whole Linor craziness. I push it out of my mind. It's time for the game, and that has to be my focus.
We put on our blue robes, and it's like the flip of a switch. My mind knows only this game, and, although I normally wouldn't care, I'm on this team and want to win. Anjali climbs on top of a bench. "Okay, team," she calls, "it's time. We've been working long and hard toward this day, and it's going to be a good one. I can say, completely honestly, that we have a better team than they do, so it's vital that we focus out there. Let's give our house the win they want. Ready, guys?" The team lets out a cheer. I don't. I have gone into low energy operations. I don't do the "get pumped" thing. I am conserving all of my energy for the field.
We head for the tunnel and prepare to mount our brooms. I can hear the school and the numerous parents who have come to watch gathered outside, preparing for the game. Ever since Professor McGonagall opened up games to parents, their presence has been large and steady. I tune them out. The spectators are not important. All that's important is what happens on the field. Master Langely strolls out onto the pitch to the cheers of the crowd. We mount, as the booming voice of Jillian Baker, the Quidditch announcer for the second year in a row.
"Welcome to the first game of the year, Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff," she calls over the screaming crowd. "Please welcome our players to the field." We mount our brooms preparing for the announcement. "From Hufflepuff: Carroll, Henderson, Morgan, Coors, Fish, Smith, and Henderson!" I see yellow blurs zoom onto the field. I prepare to take flight. "From Ravenclaw…" We zoom out. I barely hear her call, "Patel, Wilson, Lawrence, Davis, Baldor, Krumpet, and Morrison!"
We take our lap around the field before assembling to start the game. I catch sight of the awkward handshake between Anjali and Brent Coors, the Hufflepuff captain, before we take our final positions. I'm starting center, flanked by Mark and Anjali, across from me, Richard Henderson, a sixth year. "I'm going to assume you guys will play nice," Master Langely says before releasing the bludgers and the snitch. He's probably right, but I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't. He grabs the Quaffle and throws it in the air. I zoom forward, and grab it quickly before ducking under Henderson and heading for the goal. The game has begun.
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I couldn't sleep. I have that problem occasionally. I just sat there in bed while Mark slept across the room, unable to drift off. After a while, I got thirsty and walked to the kitchen. I expected it to be empty, but it wasn't. Patricia was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea and looking at the storm that was going outside.
"Can't sleep?" she asked when I entered.
"Nope," I responded, "you either."
"Haven't really tried," she said, "I was just watching the storm. Have as seat." She waved her wand and my own cup of tea appeared.
"Thanks." I turned my attention to the storm. The trickle of rain provided its soothing rhythm. An occasional far off flash of lightening broke the monotony.
"I like watching storms. It's strangely calming."
"Um, yeah I guess."
"Don't say you agree with someone just to make them feel better, Jones. Never be afraid of having an opinion." Sudden advice wasn't what I was expecting at all.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. And thank you. You mean a lot to Mark. You make him happy, so thank you."
"You're welcome."
"As his friend, this home is yours now, whenever you need it. I think it's important that you know that. I suppose you do, however, or you wouldn't be staying with us this summer."
"I just don't like going home." I was surprised to find Patricia easy to talk to.
"I never did either, to be honest. It was lonely, all by myself in that big house. I suppose that's why I wanted so many children."
"Dreams come true."
"Yes, Jones, if you're willing to go for it they really do."
"I just don't fit in there, home I mean. I'm not like them in so many ways."
"And more like them than you realize." And I just accepted it. No argument or look of disbelief. That's her real magic. When she says something, there's this weight of truth attached.
"My parents have this vision of who I am, and I'm just…not."
"That is one of the hardest thing a parent has to do, darling. As a parent, you have this idea of what you want your child to be, but in the end, they are their own person. I never expected Elizabeth to try and become an Auror, but she is." Elizabeth had recently been accepted into Auror training, but I wasn't surprised by this. Elizabeth Lawrence is one of the most intelligent people I know.
"I can't even talk like this with my own mother. She just doesn't listen like you do."
"Well, to be honest, I doubt I could be open with Mark. It's late, Jones. Why don't you try to get to sleep?"
"Okay, good night." I walked back up to the room and fell asleep quickly. It wasn't until I looked back on the conversation that I realized that she hadn't agreed with a single thing I said, but I agreed with her completely. We had a number of late night conversations that summer, and I learned so much from her. My mother doesn't know how to talk to me. We've never been close, but Patricia fills that gap. Maybe it's not okay that I have mentally replaced my mother, but it's working for me. For now.
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I shoot the ball through the left goal point, barely missing Coors. "RAVENCLAW SCORES," is drowned out by the cheers from the stands. We've taken an early lead, 30-0, but we aren't in the clear yet. 100 points are completely out of my hands. Carroll takes the Quaffle and begins down the field. He's probably the best of their three and expertly dodges Krumpet's bludger and a charge from Anjali.
He performs a fantastic feint, but Ann Marie calls his bluff and catches the Quaffle. Mark has it now as we fly down the field in a loose formation. As Henderson charges him, he passes to Anjali who dodges a bludger. Finding her approach blocked, she back passes to me. I have a clear path, only needing to deal with Coors.
I hear an unfortunate crunch as a bludger collides with my arm forcing me to drop the Quaffle. Damn it, I need to pay better attention. Pain flares from my arm as I reach for my wand in my robes and with a quick, yet painful spell, reset the bone. I turn to see that Carroll again has the Quaffle at the other end of the pitch. This time, Ann Marie is unable to stop the ball from flying through the hoop.
Anjali takes the return and begins down the field. Suddenly, gasps come from the crowd. I know from experience that this likely means one of the Seekers has spotted the Snitch and hear noise from the box suggesting I'm correct. I am unsure about who has seen it, but I don't care. For now, the Quaffle is still in play. Unfortunately, Coors makes the mistake I avoid and Anjali is able to score again bringing the score to 40-10.
Gasps turn to groans and the energy from the stands dissipates. Whoever was following the Snitch must have lost it. Anjali, Mark, and I fall into a rhythm performing quite well. I make a few bad passes due to lingering pain in my arm. I start to get angry with myself after throwing a shot at the goal post which bounces off the side. I'm letting the team down.
Julie quickly gets Morgan and Mark heads back toward the goals. Suddenly, a bludger smacks the handle of Mark's brooms barely missing the fingers of his hand. Mark goes into a wild spin. Remarkably, he holds on the Quaffle, and pulls out before getting another goal. That's how I should be playing. I'm good at this game, and I need to show it.
Shortly, I get my chance. Carroll is being swarmed by Krumpet and Anjali and sees an open pass to Henderson. I see a chance. As Carroll makes the pass, I take off and the world becomes a blur as I pick up speed. I'm only conscious of my speed and the movement of the Quaffle. I tilt slightly and pick up speed. If I don't make this, they will score again. And I catch it right in front of Henderson's hands.
I pull up into a loop and flip over at the top heading the opposite direction I came from, straight toward the goals. I maintain speed and shoot for the right post. To my surprise, it makes it. I feel fantastic. "Way to go, man!" Mark calls as he joins me just before the ball is returned to play. I know that one of the cheers in the stands is from Patricia. I know one is from Kathryn, and I hope one is from Linor. Maybe she still supports me. Probably not. Of course, I know her brother isn't cheering, but I know he liked it. That makes me very happy.
When the stands again build energy for a Snitch sighting, the score is 70-20. I am in possession of the Quaffle when I see a glimmer flash in front of me shortly followed by two blurs, the blue one slightly ahead.
I am still focused when the stands erupt into cheers. A whistle blows, the game is over, and Jillian calls "RAVENCLAW WINS, 170-20!" My serious game face fades into a grin as I come out of game focus. I swoop over to Morrison and join my team in celebration. I love this part of Quidditch. Celebrating with the team and knowing that you've played well. It's an undeniable sense of achievement. I was part of this win. I played my part, and we killed. As of right now, we're the team to watch. Sure it's only been one game, but that doesn't matter.
We return to the changing rooms in a state of euphoria. Professor Mulligan walks in to congratulate us accompanied by Madame Pomfrey who examines my arm. "I can't believe you continued playing with this!" she scolds before performing a better fix with her own wand. "You did fairly well with that spell, however, for someone who is inexperienced."
"Thanks?"
"Let me see it before you continue playing next time!"
"I wasn't planning on a next time."
"Humph," is all she says before she turns and leaves. When she's gone, I join the team in recounted some of the great moment of the game, including my interception. One by one the team leaves, and, as usual, I hold back by myself wanting to avoid the crowd leading the team back to the common room. Mark hangs back with me.
"Go celebrate with your girl, I'll catch up."
"You sure?"
"Yes, Mark. Go." I finish changing and lock my broom in the cabinet at the pitch. When I head out from the pitch I get a sudden strike of déjà vu. James is waiting for me.
"Nice steal," he says.
"Did you hang back to tell me that?" Because it's definitely okay if he did. I've been toying for a while about how I feel about him. I don't really know why, though. For the first time, I have serious feelings for a person, and he's a guy. So that's that.
The feelings are definitely serious. He's on my mind all of the time. I don't even know him, and what I do know isn't good. But I can't shake this feeling that there is something good in there. He wants to help his sister. That has to mean something.
"Yeah, and something else," he says shaking me from my thoughts. Of course the first thing I think is that he's going to tell me he likes me back. Then I realize that I'm being stupid.
"What?" Real suave, Jones.
"Well, you know that my dad isn't doing too well." I can see in his eyes that that's hard to say. "I don't think he has much time left."
"I'm sorry."
"Not your fault, but the reason I'm telling you this is because when he dies, Linor isn't going to have anyone left." Oh, it's about her. I get angry at myself for being disappointed. "You're getting to her. You're almost there. You can't give up. She's going to need someone when this all goes down."
"Do you have someone?" Stupid! Do you want to sound like a creeper? I feel like a complete idiot.
"Worry about Linor. I can take care of myself." He leaves. I walk back to the dorm a swirl of emotions. I'm still on a high from the game. I feel like I may have screwed things up with James. I feel like, maybe, I haven't, like maybe I've taken a step in the right direction. I feel like I need to focus on Linor, she needs me right now. I feel like I really don't want to deal with the party when I get back to the common room.
"Oh, there you are." I look up to see Patricia leaving the castle. "I wanted to congratulate you before I leave. It was a great game."
"Thanks," I say with a smile.
"Are you okay? You seem a little frazzled."
"I am a little frazzled."
"Hm. Well remember what I told you. Don't let someone else decide if you're happy." How does she do it? How does she know that it's someone else making me upset? I hope that one day, I can have her insight. She's my hero.
"I will. Thanks for coming."
"I wouldn't miss it. Good night." There's a lot my parents don't know. They don't know that I excel at a wizard sport. They don't know that I don't need them or that I have someone else. They never fought for what they want, but I'm going to. I'm going to fight for Linor. I'm going to fight for James, and I'm going to fight to be happy. And, I'm going to succeed.