The scent of fruit assaulted her senses as she slowly woke. There was a hand on her ass. That was the next thought she had and the absolute only thought she could focus on. Whoever it was was either going to lose their hand or their eyes. She couldn't decide which would be worse.
"Hand off my arse," she said firmly. Her voice was still tired, but there was an edge to it that put even the first years in line. The hand didn't move and another was tight around her waist. Was she... Dudley. Shit.
She opened her eyes and saw that he was still fast asleep, her face pressed against his chest. Merlin's beard, why did they always somehow get into this position? She groaned softly and pressed her fingers against his chest to pull away. Once her hand was free she reached down and grabbed his own on her ass. Absolutely no way. She flung it off of her and Dudley's eyes opened immediately, starting up.
"Sorry," he muttered, flushing brightly. "I-uh, really didn't mean to-"
"Hands off the arse is all I'm asking for," Aquila said simply. She yawned and rolled onto her back slightly, stretching the joints she could without moving him much. Not sure what to say, she reached for her wand as she sat up, flicking it so the curtains sprung away and the silencing charm vanished. "Morning, though." She climbed over him as she left the bed, calling, "Morning, ladies! Up and at 'em!"
"You two are the only ones still asleep!" Angelina called back. Oh. Aquila fumbled with her wand to cast cleansing charms on them both and ran a hand through her hair - washed thanks to the spell. It was slightly mussed. Grabbing a jersey from her bag, she pulled her t-shirt off and walked into the common area as she fumbled with the jersey - dressed in a bra. They were used to it. She did this often and she had swam in front of all of them before. It was hardly any different.
She was fit, in every sense of the word. Her stomach was flat, her arms evenly strong (as she had to be even, she couldn't just let her right one get all the work), and her skin was... well tan. She spent a lot of time outside in a sports bra during Quidditch season at school. But she'd need to start getting back in shape for next season. She had to stay in top condition for try outs next year. Seeing a few of the Irish team's interest in her, she shot them a glare and pulled on her light green jersey, snatching a pear off the dining room table, if that's what it could be called. It was more of a chopping board.
"Time?" Aquila asked.
"Nearly eight." Far too early for their late night. She spotted Dudley leave the bedroom as she seated herself on the edge of the table.
"I reckon Beater Left day means that we get to party like Irish?"
"Black, every day means we party like the Irish," Lynch informed her as though she wasn't Aquila Black anymore. Aquila gave him an easy smile and took a bite of the pear, glancing towards Dudley as he reached for an apple. Lynch looked her over as Aquila chewed her pair slowly. "What's up with you?"
"Nothing, why?" Aquila asked, confused.
She glanced down at herself to make sure that what she was wearing was put on right. She would change her shorts before they went to the pitch, of course, but she doubted that was the reason they were looking at her oddly.
"You're usually the first one up, lass," Mullet, the chaser that was retiring this year, stated slowly. "And you usually wake everyone else up because you're excited."
"Oh," Aquila said quietly, shrugging. "Slept good, that's all. Sorry if you were disappointed I didn't polish the fruit for you or anything."
"Nah," Tara insisted. "They're just put out that a lovely face didnt greet them this morning."
Aquila snorted. "Right. Anyway, are we going to head to the pitch because I feel like some alcohol, Irish chants, and some good old bludger dodging."
"Some what?" Dudley asked, slightly afraid that he would end up breaking an arm. Well... there was always a possibility.
"Oh, you'll just have to duck whenever it's called," Aquila insisted. She tied her hair up into a braid and yawned before biting into the pear once more. Her eyes sought out Dudley's and he seemed a tad nervous for his life. The twins stood at the same time and disappeared into the bedroom before returning, three bats in hand. Aquila recognized one as her own. She rolled her eyes and reached for another pear, but reached behind her suddenly. Her bat fell neatly in her hands and the twins groaned.
"I was so sure that time, weren't you, Freddie?" George groaned.
"Indeed, Georgie."
"You boys need to learn that I'm started to expect you throwing things at me behind my back. And I know you well enough to know where you'll throw them."
Dudley looked surprised at her reflexes however and she winked at him. "Years upon years of practice. When you're a beater, you expect things coming up behind you. Dangerous business, that."
"Aye, I broke me spine once my second year of school," Connolly stated and Aquila rolled her eyes. He told this story once a year on Beater Left day. A tradition, it seemed. "First ever match, too. Nasty stuff. Hurt like hell. Pomfrey fixed me up right quick and I was on the pitch by the time the match ended."
"Bloody hell," Alicia sighed. "You could at least not scare the bloke before he goes to the pitch."
"It's a lot safer than they're making it sound," Aquila said with an apologetic grin. She tied off the braid and rolled her shoulders. "Merlin, today's going to be great. Finally, my sort of game."
"Isn't this all your game?"
Aquila grinned brightly at Dudley. "Exactly." She twirled her bat around in her hands before she gripped it firmly in her right. "Today and tomorrow are just more my days. Oi, Lynch, put your new muscles to good use and carry the firewhiskey." There was a bark of indignation, but she bit her pear, smirking as she chewed quietly. "Well? I know you're a lazy lot, but you could at least get moving. We've got to fight the crowd still." Aquila returned to the bedroom long enough to retrieve a different pair of shorts and her wand, slipping it into her pocket and slipping on her shoes. She was ready.
The men were each carrying a few bottles of firewhiskey and the women the rolls of parchment for the bets. Aquila claimed it sexist, but the four women were tasked as security. As in they had to pave the path through the crowd so that no one would knock a precious bottle of firewhiskey down the stands where no one would bother to retrieve it. Too much of a walk for a bottle. The twins, she suspiciously noted, were wearing their backpacks, them bulging. More firewhiskey? Aquila spotted Dudley just behind her as they reached the eighth level and she fell into step beside him as the crowd waned.
"Don't worry, I'll keep you protected," she winked.
He didn't seem relieved at the notion. She plopped down in her seat from yesterday and Dudley resumed his own seat. She took the bottle from him and the day began. Around noon, most of those around her had passed out in their drunken states, she was left on Beater duty. Which meant if a bludger went her way, she hit it towards the beater in the field. But she hadn't hit it yet and she was getting antsy, her eyes darting around the pitch as it followed the bludger. It bounced off a bat a stand over, four rows, down and the one trying out was able to knock it towards the goals - but the path diverted and it went towards another stand. Dudley was wide eyed in fascination as he watched the mock sport being played about.
She couldn't wait for him to see the real thing.
"Heads up!" Aquila called suddenly, making Dudley jump in surprise. There hadn't been any talking going on between them since the others began to fall asleep. George groaned beside Aquila in his drunken state. Aquila stood and climbed her seat before she held back her arm and swung with all her might. The bludger sailed back and a grin plastered itself on Aquila's face. Merlin, when would the next one come?
"Bloody hell, that could kill someone."
"Oh, they have," Aquila said lightly as she seated herself back down. She loosened her grip on her bat and grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey. "Shh, don't tell mum I'm drinking. She thinks I promised not to that much." She glanced at her almost empty bottle. "Oops." She giggled and leaned into Dudley's side. "Merlin, he's good, isn't he?"
"What?" Dudley asked, distracted. Aquila gestured towards the field with her bat and to the beater that had hit three in a row, the two bludgers going at him one after another so he had no break. He only missed one and dodged it in an attempt to actually stay in the air. "Oh, yeah, better than Morag."
She grinned at that response and glanced at the parchment resting atop a sleeping Lynch. She tapped her wand to it to make her selection and relaxed back into Dudley's side. "Ready for tonight?"
"Is it going to be crazy?"
"You think Muggle parties are great?" Aquila smirked. "Wait until you see ours."
He groaned. "Then I should start to lay off the alcohol now."
She snorted in amusement and watched as he actually did set the bottle down. "Do you not like drinking? I've noticed you don't drink much."
"I do, just not in front of people I don't really know." She supposed everyone had their own insecurities.
"Well we're a pretty understanding lot, so no pressure or anything." She sipped from her own bottle as he was quiet. "We don't force people to do things they aren't comfortable with, you know. I don't think we're that intimidating, but I guess I could be wrong."
"No, I would have stopped if I wasn't comfortable," Dudley shrugged. He leaned back in the stadium seating, the backs of the chairs attached to the bleachers making it comfortable. A simple charm removed them for laying down, but it was comforting to lean back during the day. When it wasn't unbearably hot. Her legs stretched out in front of her, onto Aidan Lynch's back of his own seat, and the bottle was between her legs. "Is it always this hot?"
Indeed, he was sweating.
"No, just the good old English summers being hotter than ever," Aquila shrugged. She flicked her wand over him and he twitched in surprise. "Cooling charms. Magic makes our lives easier, not harder." She flicked her wand towards herself and her temperature cooled only a few degrees. But it made the intense sun more bearable. She grinned towards Dudley as he stretched out and sipped from her bottle. "Love magic, huh?"
"It's wicked useful."
"I honestly don't know how you get by sometimes," Aquila admitted. "Medicine that cures diseases in five minutes, instant teleportation to destinations..." She turned her head towards him. "Do you ever have that assignment you don't feel like writing but you have to get it done by the next class?"
"Of course," Dudley shrugged.
She grinned at him. "We have a quill that does the assignment by itself - you just talk to it when you feel like adding something. Of course you have to copy it onto another piece of parchment so it's in your own handwriting, but it cuts research and everything down to an art." He glanced at her in absolute surprise. "And we also have books in the library that if you request them, they'll come to you."
"What else?"
She shrugged slightly, her head falling onto his shoulder. "We have loads of things. I don't know what your equivalents would be. We don't have electricity, however. Fire and radios are about as advanced as that department goes. And we don't have your nifty little pens. We have quills and ink bottles. Paper to you is parchment to us. We don't have science - we don't believe in science really. Just the basics like weather and how gravity works and such. We don't learn any of that in school. We're taught to read and write at home and how to count and such, too." She paused, glancing at him. "What are you taught in primary school... that is what it's called, yes?"
Dudley rolled his shoulders, mindful of her head. "Reading, counting, colors."
"Colors?" Aquila questioned, fighting the grin on her face. "What colors?"
"Er, red... blue, those colors."
"What's red?" she asked innocently.
He shot her an incredulous look. "What?"
She giggled, "Kidding, sorry. Continue."
His cheeks turned pink a tad at how easily he fell for that. "Er, right, colors. And then there's math like multiplication and such. Science, like genetics and rain and electricity."
"Genetics?" she questioned. "What about it?"
"Like how we are the way we are. What genes cause diseases and such. How are things genetic - er, what do we inherit from our parents?" This seemed to be his element. She had finally found it. Merlin, how long had it taken and she should have known it would be connected to medicine. "There are so many diseases we can't cure. For instance, cancer or the common cold."
"Oh, the common cold was an easy one," Aquila told him. "Pepper Up potion. Also good for hypothermia and any other sickness who's symptoms contain fever, sniffles, and coughing."
"You've cured the common cold?"
"Well, I haven't specifically," Aquila admitted. "But it's pretty much cured. We still get it, but nothing a quick potion can't fix."
"What about cancer?"
"I ..." It couldn't be the astrology sign, so she went with the answer she knew wouldn't show her lack of Muggle intelligence. "I'm unfamiliar with that one. What is it?" She glanced at Dudley in curiousity, her head never leaving his shoulder as she glanced up at him.
"You've never... it's a terminal disease," he stated after he got over his initial surprise. He swallowed, his hand rubbing his chest briefly as he paused. "Uh, sort of inherited, I suppose, from parents or grandparents. Sometimes it skips a generation, or five, or eight, or sometimes it could never have shown up and you just get it. Usually not spotted until it's too late."
"Too late?" she asked quietly.
"It kills you," he commented, equally as quiet. "Spreads through your body, and you can't see it, you can only feel it after it's done enough damage. Once you notice it, sometimes you have days, weeks, months... rarely years." He paused as Aquila tried to figure out how Muggles could just live without noticing something like that. Dark magic, it seemed. It had to be curable.
"And no cure?" she asked him, confused. "But there would have to be something that can stop it. If it's as common as you make it sound-"
"No cure. Only delayments, I suppose. There's this thing called chemotherapy. Sort of dangerous and makes you feel really sick. You lose your hair and vomit a lot and you feel weak."
"And that's a ... medication? Like those pills you gave me for my hangover?"
"No," he shook his head. "It's radiation therapy. It's these... waves a lot like sunlight, and it goes through your body and is supposed to kill the cancer cells."
"Supposed to?" she asked, biting her lip. That didn't sound very effective.
"Doesn't always work," he admitted. His voice had grown unusually quiet, as though he were afraid of being overheard. Aquila rested her wand on her lap and took his hand resting on his own. Perhaps he knew someone with the disease? Her fingers were squeezed by his own. "Sometimes people refuse the chemo. If the chemo works, they're safe. But there's always a chance it could come back. If it doesn't work... sometimes they start to stop the treatments. They don't want to feel bad before they die."
"That's horrible," Aquila said softly. Her eyes darted across the pitch, watching as someone that was sleeping was hit directly with a bludger. Medical personal were heading for them immediately with a stretcher. Ouch.
"Yeah," Dudley agreed. "The silent killer, it's called."
"We don't have that in my world. Terminal diseases that are passed down can be cured easily enough in just a single generation with no chance of it coming back." She bit her lip as he acknowledged her words. "We don't have this cancer... At least I don't think we do. The magic in our bodies makes us remarkably resiliant to most diseases. Such as the Bubonic Plague. Our lot survived. Hid out in the wizarding world and didn't leave until it was over. Muggleborns were practically nonexistant then..." She tried to think back in the history books to anything she had ever read concerning diseases and wizard folk. "No imperfections, really. Rarely glasses. Potter's probably the only one in our school that wears them - usually older people do. No mind issues - like dyslexia. Though, I will say there are plenty of mentally unstable people in the world." She moved her head so that she was closer to him. "Cancer... we don't have it. We may have once, but I'd have to read up on it. We live exceptionally long compared to you lot."
"How long would you say your life span is?"
"Professor Trelawney, our school psychic, I suppose, says I'll live to be a hundred and thirty nine. While I disagree, saying a ripe old age of one hundred and ten." He frowned slightly at that. "Though men do tend to live longer. Potter's grandfather, Charlus Potter, lived to be one hundred and forty seven. His wife Dorea Black, who was just a few years younger than him - and by few I mean around twenty - lived to be a hundred and three. Always in the papers when I was little. The Boy Who Lived, denied the custody of his own grandparents. They died a few years after the first war ended." She paused. "We do have terminal illnesses, however. They're originated from Dark Magic. It's believed that all diseases stem from Dark Magic. I once had a family member who touched a cursed object. They began to wither away, their magic doing whatever it could to heal them, but eventually they didn't have much left. I suppose that's a lot like that thing you call cancer."
"Sure," Dudley agreed. He shifted a tad closer, propping his leg on his lap so that they were crossed in that ridiculous way men cross their legs. Aquila gazed at their entwined hands before looking back to the pitch. They did this touchy stuff - held hands, stood beside each other, talked about personal things... Merlin, no wonder her mother thought they were shagging. "What about leprosy?"
"Archaic," Aquila assured him.
"Chicken Pox?"
"We have Dragon Pox," Aquila admitted. "I'd assume that's the same thing. Nasty red boils all over your body, and you get this horrible fever like a dragon's been cooking ya."
"Er, no, not the same thing," Dudley chuckled. "Ours are tiny spots that itch like hell and you're contageous so you have to stay home from school for a few days."
"Is there a cure?" she asked. "Is it deadly?"
"No, not deadly as far as I know. Just itchy. As for a cure, well... there's a shot, but sometimes it doesn't do anything to prevent the chicken pox."
"Then why get the shot if its not deadly. If it goes away, I mean, there's no need to get it. Immune systems are made for that stuff-"
"it's inconvenient to some people," Dudley shrugged lightly. "We do that stuff, I guess. We take medicines and get shots that's supposed to prevent a disease, but it may end up giving us another. And the side effects are sometimes worse than the disease itself."
"Well, that's just stupid. Nature provides all the cures you need," Aquila insisted. "No offense to Muggle methods, but all you need is to snip a few herbs and put them in a cauldron and boom. Instant cure to the Common Cold. Of course, it only works if a witch or wizard makes the potion. Otherwise, it would just be gobbledeegook."
"Gobbledeegook?" Dudley asked, stiffling a laugh.
"It's a good description for mush," Aquila defended with an eyeroll. "Merlin, so critical."
"Why wouldn't it work for Muggles, though?" Dudley inquired. "If you're doing the exact same process, the exact same method."
Aquila faltered. She didn't quite know why, she just knew it did. "I'm not sure... I'd imagine the magic has something to do with it, but it's not like we use spells on the ingredients when we make potions... Perhaps that's a theory I'll test some day..." She shrugged, but sprung to life as a bludger came their way. Too high for her to go for it, so she let someone else take it and relaxed against Dudley's side again. "You're still going to school for accounting and all that, aren't you?"
"Er, yeah, I haven't quite gotten around to talking about medicine."
"Well," Aquila said quietly. "It's not like they're horrible education options, either. Accounting and such are rather useful, aren't they?"
"But the only use Dad wants is Grunnings."
She patted his arm good naturedly. "You do what you make it do, Dudley. If you don't want to do... don't make it do." He shot her a look that told her what she just said didn't make sense. She shrugged it off. "If you win, what's your prank?"
"Hmmm..." He thought about it for a moment, and Aquila let him think as she ticked off a few boxes on her parchment. She glanced at Dudley's on his lap to see that he hadn't filled a few in. Did he think some teams were going empty, or did he think they were horrible? Or was he not paying attention? "Well considering you've won four years in a row..."
"And I intend to make this my fifth," Aquila prompted with a wink.
"Precisely why I don't think I'll be winning. However, if I do, I reckon my prank would..." He grinned suddenly. "I'm afraid I can't tell you until we know for sure who wins."
Her jaw dropped in surprise. "What? But-But you have to tell me!"
"I can't," Dudley admitted with a smirk. "I'm unable to inform you of something before it happens. I don't see the future like you lot."
She snorted and crossed her arms, leaning away from him. "Fine. Don't tell me. Don't expect me to help you fill in any of your blanks on your parchment, either."
"Oh, they won't be placed on teams," Dudley assured her. "I'm fairly confident in that regards."
"Yes, well, someone's got to take the spots, don't they?"
"Well, sure, but who's to say they won't ask someone from another day?" Dudley returned. "If they're a decent flier, they can ask for another spot, even if they aren't particularly great at it, couldn't they?"
"You seem very confident in this theory," Aquila said slowly, though she knew that Quidditch was strict and very serious. If you didn't audition for the position, you were next to never considered for it. Only very rare cases like undiscovered talent. All the blokes on his paper didn't have undiscovered talent - especially since they no doubt played quidditch frequently and had at least tried every other position.
"Oh, I am," Dudley shrugged. "I'm probably wrong, but I might as well stick to it and see where it gets me."
"Very well."
So they continued watching the pitch and Aquila only counted a measley three bludgers she hit by night's fall. And as if magic had awoken them, the twins leapt from their seats and grinned at each other as they climbed over the Irish and towards the rails. Their backpacks, which Aquila had suspiciously noted earlier, were opened to reveal a load of pyrotechnics. She grinned in delight and glanced at Dudley.
"The party begins." She hurriedly woke the Irish and soon word spread of the impending show. Hardly anyone left the pitch.
"The trials for Day Two officially draw to a close," the announcer stated. "Those that didn't get a chance to complete their trials will be schedule to compete on the eighth day. Day Three will begin tomorrow at nine in the morning."
The announcer began to leave and there were chants.
"Weasley. Weasley. Weasley. Weasley. Weasley!"
Aquila joined in, laughing as she clapped her hands to go with the beat of the chant. And then the twins cast an incendio on their bags and all hell broke loose.
Two quite large rockets launched into the air, streaming towards the middle of the pitch and her and Dudley had to crane their necks to look up. And they exploded in a confetti of green. "Yeah!" Cheers cried all around the pitch. The Weasley twins bowed deeply in acknowledgement and Aquila couldn't help but grin as the green slowly faded away to gold and then it began to shimmer - to sparkle brilliantly. Well, this was new.
And then it formed two leperchauns. "Merlin's beard!" she gasped. They were quite animate and in no less solidity than before. In fact, they seemed to be getting more solid looking as the seconds ticked by. And the two leperchauns - one facing the north stands, the other the south - turned towards each other simultaneously and ran smack into each other. There were cries of "ooo" and then the leperchauns leapt up and began to beat each other bloody - only instead of blood it was shimmers of gold.
"These are your fireworks?"
"These are the twins invention," Aquila corrected. She shook her head, her eyes never leaving the brawl. "They're bloody brilliant, I tell you. These are better than the leperchauns at the World Cup." The twins were climbing back up the stands, shaking hands with those they passed, giving off puking pastels and Fever Fudges. One leperchaun gave the other a particularly nasty uppercut and as soon as the injured leperchaun went down, they both exploded into a shimmer of gold.
"Woah!" Dudley gasped. Coins rained down on the crowd - the gold shimmering suddenly all made sense - and Dudley picked up a few coins from his lap. "Is this real gold?"
"It'll disappear within a few hours," she said quietly. "Leperchauns are natural tricksters. Get what they want for free. There's a reason you never find gold at the end of the rainbow. By the time you get there, it all disappears." He brushed off the coins from his person so they clattered along the stands and Aquila stood suddenly, climbing over the seat until she found Seamus Finnigan - a Gryffindor a year younger than her with sandy brown hair and a wicked eye for Ireland. "Oi, Finnigan!" she called. He looked up from a snog session with one of the Patils - Padma? Probably Pavarti.
"What, Black? I'm kinda busy here!"
"Where's the ale, mate?" she asked, spreading her arms to gesture around them. "We've got a week from now until the match and you don't have the traditional ale at the ready?"
While her tone was light, she was reprimanding him for neglecting his duties. They did, afterall, all have a roll to play to show their Irish pride. Aquila's was the results day. Twins were in charge of pyro and they'd have a show every night from now on - each night getting better than the first. Finnigan brought the ale - his father's brew - and the Irish brought themselves. Anyone else contributed what they could.
"Is it always the Irish that are celebrated?" Dudley asked as Finnigan got up, muttering under his breath and heading for the top of the stands. She heard him cry "Accio Ale trunk!" and she watched, stepping back to her seat, as something soared in the air towards them.
"Of course," Aquila grinned. "The English, Welsh, and Scottish absolutely hate it. Northern Ireland gets in on the fun, though, and they celebrate with us. But Ireland hasn't lost a match in the last ten years against any of the aforementioned teams, so we get the bragging rights to celebrate until they do something about it." She glanced around them. "This is the Irish side of the Pitch. All Ireland fans from Owner's Box down to about two o'clock from this point on." she pointed to a spot just about forty five degrees from where they were sitting, dead on straight ahead and to the right. "Basically, we rule. And we're sitting in the center of it all. This section of the stands has the biggest party."
"So this is how a wizard party starts," Dudley murmured.
"No, this is how the pre party starts." Finnigan caught a large bag and he pulled a few miniturized items out of the bag before he began to enlarge them. She grinned and gestured towards it. "That's how a wizard party starts."