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Chapter 6: Quidditch Accidents
"I think I'm gonna be sick," Achilles said, putting his head in between his legs. I rubbed his back soothingly. Usually, Achilles was the one who's calm, cool, and collected as he tried to calm me down. Now, I was the one calming Achilles down.
How do you like them apples?
Fruity is the normal one.
Miracles do happen.
"It's gonna be alright," I said, looking at the rest of the team for support.
"Yeah," said Piper enthusiastically, reaching for his hand that was sitting on the table. She gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I bet you won't let a single shot through."
Achilles face paled. He looked like he was going to be sick. "Is that what everybody thinks?" he shrieked hysterically, flinging Piper's hand off. Piper looked indignant. Achilles flapped his arms somewhat hysterically while I watched him (shamelessly amused).
And by 'somewhat', I mean completely.
"I have to stop every Quaffle! Will Rose expect that? Oh my God. She does! I'm gonna let the Quaffle through and she's going to think I'm pathetic! Then Malfoy'll catch the Snitch-"
"Oi!" Al cried indignantly. "When have I not gotten the Snitch?"
"Slytherin will win and Rose won't even give me the time of day!" Achilles finished, smashing his head on the Great Hall table. And just to be sure he damaged every brain cell, he gave his head eight more courtesy whacks.
Whoever said my brother was crazy?
Whoever you are out there, you are spot on.
"Shut up, Achilles," Louis said, stifling a yawn behind his hand. Looks like the little bugger didn't get enough sleep last night.
Serves him right.
He did throw me in the lake afterall.
I hope the memory of nearly giving me hypothermia keeps him up for many nights.
... Except not actually.
That would suck if that actually happened.
Achilles still looked distressed. "But Rose-"
"Stop PMS-ing," James snapped. James was also looking rather pale and his already messy deep brown hair looked like it allowed a friendly hamster to stay the night. "I need you on top form today. You can moon over my cousin later."
Belle rolled her pretty brown eyes (looking, as usual, completely collected) and slapped him on his arm. "You are so sensitive, Jamsie dear." Al nearly choked on his pumpkin juice he was laughing so hard.
"I know, I know," Belle said, waving a dismissive hand. "No saying 'Jamsie dear' in public."
"I'm going to the changerooms," James announced authoritatively, collecting his papers and standing. "I expect to see the rest of you in five minutes. I want you all good and limber before the match."
After James was out of earshot, Achilles exclaimed, "Five minutes! Our match can't be that soon! Oh my God, why am I even on this team?"
Piper snarled, drew her arm back and slapped him hard in the face. The resounding smack echoed across the Great Hall, causing many students to stare at our table. Achilles raised a hand to his face absently and stared at Piper in outrage. The rest of the team seemed to be of the same opinion as Achilles.
Al snatched her hand as if he thought she were about to hit Achilles a second time. "What do you think you're doing?" he said, but Piper just shrugged him off.
"Pull yourself together, Achilles!" Piper shouted who was now a little pink in the face. Strands of auburn hair were falling out of loose ponytail. "Stop bitching about Rose! She's not the only girl in this world! There are tonnes of girls who'd be happy to be with you. You'll live without her and honestly, you whining about her is seriously unattractive. If you wanna win her over, how about you grow some balls?"
Achilles was still staring vaguely at Piper with a strange expression of wonder and outrage. "You slapped me!"
Piper rolled her green eyes. "Thank you, Sherlock Holmes," she said sarcastically. "That was the only way to get your mind off of Rose fucking Weasley. Like seriously, you could do better than her."
"Don't talk about her like that," Achilles hissed but Piper ignored him. Tension was thick in the air as Piper pointedly looked in the other direction, avoiding Achilles' outraged looks.
"I hate to break-up this little slap fest, but we really need to meet James down by the Pitch," Belle said, getting up and shouldering her broom. "Well, come on."
Achilles stormed away as soon as Belle said this without looking at anyone. Belle sighed and followed him. Piper seemed to be resisting leaving but decided that that would be against her best interests by being late. She left at a considerably safe distance from Achilles.
The rest of the team sluggishly got to their feet and waved goodbye to me as the exited the Hall. Louis yawned as he ruffled my hair. Al lagged behind as he always does. I got to my feet too. Al sighed and ran a hand through his jet black hair. He was looking quite green.
"Hey! Your face matches your eyes!"
Okay, so I guess I'm not the best at cheering people up.
Al rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Fruity. I needed that."
I grinned at Al who gave me a weak smile in return. "Don't worry about it. You always catch the Snitch, right?"
Al shrugged. "Yeah..."
"Damn straight," I said. When Al stayed silent, I rushed up to hug him. I burried my face into his scarlet Quidditch robes and inhaled his intoxicating scent of Christmas. Like cinnamon and nutmeg. "You'll do great," I said. Al immediately responded and wrapped his arms around me, burrying his face into my long brown hair. I put my head against the comfortable crook of his neck.
Dammit, Al. Why can't you just be in love with me?
"Thanks, Fruity," Al muttered into my hair as he stroked it. He pull his face back so he could look at me. "You'll be alright, yeah? I know that Malfoy really got to you yesterday. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"
"No," I said immediately, not daring to meet his emerald green eyes. "It's nothing. I just didn't want him talking about Achilles."
Al frowned and looked unconvinced. "Are you sure that-"
"Yes, that was it," I said, pulling away from his hug.
Al hesitated. "Just because I don't have enough time to bug you about it, I'll buy it. But that doesn't mean you're getting off easy."
"Yes, sir," I said with a grin. "I'll be sure to give him hell on the commentary."
Al nodded his approval. "Don't offend him too much. I may be amazing but I can't defend you from a whole gang of Slytherins."
I bowed. "Yes, great master."
"Do me a favour?"
"Kick that slimy git's arse for me."
"And they're off," I yelled into the magical microphone as Madame Hooch threw the Quaffle high into the air. I was seated with the professors right at the edge of the stands. The crowd was defeaning. Most of students part of the sea of red and gold while only a small part of the bleachers consisted of silver and green.
I loved Quidditch. Hundreds of people in the same area to celebrate their love for one thing? Could anthing be any better?
Who could ever feel lonely in a place like this?
"Weasley with the Quaffle," I screamed as Louis snatched the Quaffle straight out of the air. For someone who was seemingly exhausted, he sure was speedy. And I definitely took note of the lack of Spice Girl tunes.
My eyes moved as fast as they could to keep up with the fast paced game. "He passes it off to Potter who is in his third year of captaincy. Potter drives down the Pitch faster than Professor Longbottom moves when he sees a mimbulus mimbletonia-"
"Flynn," Professor Longbottom warned but smiled looking amused.
"Sorry, sir, but it seems that you do have quite the passionate love affair with that plant. Should I tell your wife?"
Most of the staff laughed at Professor Longbottom's expense. I grinned apologetically at him, but he just waved it off. Of course the professors were expecting cheeky comments. This was me of course.
"Wood with the Quaffle," I continued, as Piper grabbed the Quaffle from James' pass. "Gryffindor chasers flying down the Pitch - um, no pun intended - Slytherin just can't keep up."
The Slytherins booed while the Gryffindors whooped appreciatively.
"And Wood goes for the shot - Gryffindor leads 10 - 0!" I screamed into microphone, although I doubted that anyone could hear me over the cheering.
"And Fountaine hits Slytherin new captain and seeker Malfoy in the shoulder," I said as Malfoy screamed a very foul curse that caused the teachers to shake their heads disapprovingly. "Now, now, Malfoy, that language is really not necessary. Well, Slytherin definitely does not look happy about that-"
The Slytherin beaters were waving their bats menacingly at Belle who just waved at them. They scowled. Malfoy was trying rubbing his arm, still looking for the Snitch while Al was far above him, his eyes darting madly all over the Pitch.
"Malfoy didn't seem to be the contender for captaincy after Zabini graduated last year, he is a little scrawny-"
"Is this relevent, Flynn?"
"A history on the players is always necessary, sir," I said seriously. "And of course, the newest buzz is that Rose Weasley of Ravenclaw is now dating him! I've always liked Rose, but this time, I don't fancy your taste very much. I could recommend a few decent blokes-"
"Are you running a dating service, Flynn?"
"Sorry, professor, but the population of Hogwarts needs to know."
"Stick to the game."
I gave a small salute. "Yes, sir! Slytherin in possesion now," I said. "Davies not seeming to want to pass to any of his teammates. Oi! It's a team sport! McLaggen is wide open! Davies is still doing a good job at dodging the Gryffindor chasers - bad luck, Louis, that tackle was so close. OI! That was hardly legal! Meat-head, Goyle-"
"I'm warning you, Flynn-"
"Decides to take it upon himself to try to rip Wood's broom out from under her. Wood manages to stay on her broom even after that blatant and disgusting foul -"
"A non-biased commentary, Flynn?"
"Sorry, sir. Davies making the shot - come on, Achilles!" Achilles face was contorted in concentration as Davies zoomed towards him. The Quaffle flung into the air towards the middle hoop and right into Achilles' outstretched fingers. "And he makes the save! Nice try, Slytherin!"
Davies promptly flipped me off.
"Well then. That's rather rude, don't you think?"
Achilles seemed stunned that he caught the Quaffle. He blinked down at the ball in his hand before throwing it back to Louis.
Louis did a victory dance that was very reminiscent of his Spice Girls' dance. I groaned into the microphone. "Weasley seems to be doing his rendition of the Spice Girls... again. Louis, save it for the after party."
"What 'after party?'" Professor Longbottom asked sternly.
"Um, nothing, sir," I said quickly. But really, all the teachers know the winning house parties after a game. It's really no surprise. They definitely all did when they were in school.
But strictly speaking, they were not allowed to condone this sort of behaviour.
"By 'after party', I meant a lively game of Wizards' Chess," I corrected myself. "Oh look, Wood makes another goal for Gryffindor." The Gryffindors in the stands roared their approval, drowning out the rest of my commentary. Many of the Slytherin players flipped off Piper who blew a kiss back in their direction.
The girl's got class.
I watched Al and Malfoy who still had no sight of the snitch. Al was closely tailing Malfoy but wasn't looking at him. His eyes were still searching. "20-0! The seekers still have no sight of the Snitch. This may be a long game, folks."
The Slytherins were playing dirty. They were getting frustrated because they couldn't seem to get past Achilles so they decided to foul in every possible way. Other than a few minor bruises, Gyffindor was doing well. Except Mark Wood had left the Pitch with a concussion after Goyle used his beater's bat to smack him in the head. He swears he thought it was the Bludger.
"60-0! The Slytherins are getting their behinds handed to them despite the disgusting fouls-"
"Flynn, I swear to Merlin-"
"Sorry, sir, but it's not biased, it's true. You don't need to foul to win, boys. Word of advice, chasers: work together. It's not necessary for one person to go all the way across the Pitch then making the shot. Seriously, it really works when you share. Didn't your parents ever tell you to share?"
The Slytherins were hissing at me now.
Yeah, that makes you all look very sane.
All sane people start hissing at the poor, sweet, innocent commentator.
"Oh, hush up, snakes. It's true. Why do you think Gryffindor has a 60 point lead on them?"
That shut them up. The Slytherins resorted to sullenly pouting.
"Now, that's better!" I said into the microphone. A flash of scarlet plummeted towards the ground and if my eyes were as good as I thought them to be, a little glimmer of gold. I leapt out of my seat. "And Al's seen the Snitch!" I shrieked excitedly.
Malfoy saw Al dive and followed him. He was desperately trying to keep up, just staying right behind Al's broom.
"He's diving towards the ground and Malfoy's seemed to have caught on too! He's right on Al's tail! C'mon, Al! You've never missed a Snitch, don't let me down now!"
I babbled into the microphone not thinking about what I was saying anymore. Blood pounded in my ears as I clenched onto the microphone like it was a lifeline. I had no doubt that Al was going to catch the snitch. The only problem was he was getting to close to the ground.
"Pull up, Al, pull up!" I screamed desperately. The teachers were murmuring their concern, but of course, they couldn't intervene with the match. Malfoy pulled out of his dive but Al continued to plummet faster than a bullet chasing the Snitch.
"Al! You're going to bash your face in! PULL UP! Oh, for God's sakes, Al! Pull up!"
But Al wasn't listening to me. With determination etched on his face, he stretched out his fingers and closed it around the little fluttering golden ball. Before I could even scream, Al smashed into the ground.
It was like it was in slow motion. His hand crumpled against the ground, his arm still stretched out from grabbing the snitch. His face contorted in pain as he tried to roll his head in, avoiding smacking it into the ground. His broom went flying away from him as Al rolled along the ground, ending up face down in the grass.
The crowd was silent. I could hear the teachers scattering and going down the stairs to get a look at Al. Madame Pomfrey was already scurrying towards him.
And I don't exactly remember when, but I had thrown myself over the stands and onto the Pitch, forgetting that the stands were a good forty feet up.
I landed on the ground gracefully (surprisingly due to the height and my lack of grace) and rolled to my feet, sprinting towards Al's crumpled body. My heart stopped at the sight of it. Most of the team was already gathered around him. I know some of them were talking to me. Piper was trying to wake up Al. Louis cautiously tried to pull me away from Al's body. But what did I care about that if Al could've been dead.
"Al, Al!" I yelled, blindly stumbling towards him. I shoved Piper out of the was who was kneeling by his head. I threw myself on the grass frantically.
Oh God, arms aren't supposed to bend that way, are they?
"Al, oh God, Al, are you okay?"
I choked back a sob in my throat. "Al, if you love me, please don't be dead," I said desperately, shaking his shoulders weakly.
Then came a muffled response. "M'alright, Fruity, don't shake me though my head hurts."
Al lifted his head off the ground and grinned at me. The image would've been perfect, if not for the scary amounts of blood coming out from just about every orifice of his face.
I felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from my weak shoulders.
Oh-kay, maybe that was a tad bit of an exaggeration, but I was worried okay! Give me a break, people!
"My God, Al," I moaned, gingerly wiping the blood of his brow. "Don't ever do something so stupid again."
He smiled his stupid dazzling smile. "I won, didn't I?"
"Does it still count as winning if you're dead?"
"But I'm not," he pointed out.
"Not for long, if I kill you."
"Well, that would ruin the whole point of me surviving, wouldn't it?"
I grimaced. "Don't ever do that to me again."
He grinned. "I'll be more careful next time."
I glared at him, refusing to respond to that. Al managed to prop himself up, but winced painfully as he put weight on his arms. Blood drained from my face.
Al used his good arm to reach out and grab my hand. He smiled at me. "Sorry, Fruity, but I can't always stop myself from being an idiot."
I let out a sigh of relief and grinned. "No. But you're my idiot."
And in that moment, it was just us as I clenched his hand tightly. You know, other than Madame Pomfrey hastily trying to heal Al's wounds, the Quidditch team cheering their victory, and crowds of students around us leering on our every word. Everything was perfect. Because it was just me and Al. And nothing could shatter this moment.
"PARTY IN THE COMMON ROOM!"
Ahem, so I really didn't read over this chapter... Whoops. Well, I'm going to University tomorrow, so I've been packing like a madman. Hopefully you can forgive me. Don't judge me, but I started writing a new story *puts on bulletproof vest* I just got a plot bunny and decided to write it? Ahahaha, um... I'm trying to write the next chapter. And for those of you who are fans of STRL, I AM SO SORRY. Writer's block to the max! I will write more, but this chapter is just so damn hard. Alright, I'm done ranting... Please review! I'll write faster if you do ;) (Yes, I'm bribing you.)