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Chapter 13 : The Ramming of Fred Weasley
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Sorry for the minor delay :)
“All right, team,” I said confidently, staring around the locker room. My team was spread out around me sitting in front of their lockers, all looking more serious than they should. Even Meta looked as if she didn’t have a corn cob stuck up her ass for once. Bink and Fred did a fist pump and Avery continued to keep her eyes downcast.
“We can do this!” I did my own fist pump. “Ravenclaw…they’re smart. That means they don’t have the Quidditch talent we do. All their good Quidditch players are off studying and brown-nosing to the teachers, not playing on the pitch. We’re going to get out there and we’re going to win and stick it to rabbit-fucking Kay Davies.”
“Don’t judge,” said Fred.
“Are you lot ready?” I cried, swishing my scarlet and gold robes around my legs. “Are you ready to kick some Claw ass and party tonight?”
“I hope so,” Bink said, standing and stretching. “Oy, Meta, you want to catch the Snitch before we have to work too hard? My left leg has a bit of a cramp.”
She rolled her eyes. “Throw right and maybe we’ll see.”
“Throw right? Oh, that’s wonderful of you to say—you can’t even throw!”
“I’m not a Chaser.” Meta folded her arms.
“Can we not fight before a game?” I gaped at both of them. “Let’s just go out there and win because Nia told me she has a whole stock of liquor upstairs and I can’t be sad while drinking or I’ll start spilling my secrets to Edwards asking him to be my therapist.”
“Good plan.” Fred peeked out the door. “Bleeding everyone and their Crup is out there.” He turned back briefly and looked at Paloma and Wesley. “Are you two okay? Just pretend like it’s practice only playing against prats to some white noise.”
When he pulled open the door it was anything but white noise. There were shrieks and whoops and the sound of signs flopping in the wind as I walked out onto the grass. Paloma looked positively petrified and Wesley looked as if he had his jaw wired shut. It was strange seeing them with the rest of the team in their scarlet and gold robes with their names knitted to the back. What a crew I had as my team. Paloma even painted her nails red and yellow to match.
“Just hit the Bludgers,” I said to them. “Just hit the Bludgers and that’s all you have to worry about. We’ll take care of the rest. Aim high on Davies, though, she’s a tricky little wench.”
“James,” warned Fred.
“Sorry, mate, but she is.” I smiled, though my Beaters didn’t return it.
The stands were completely packed with scarlet and gold and ugly Ravenclaw colors. The Slytherin end was obviously supporting the Claws but we split the Puffs. It nearly felt as if the crowd was closing in on us, but I was used to it by now. I was a Seventh Year and I only had three matches left. Ever (until I went pro obviously and girls asked me to sign their grades).
“Ready to get your lion arse handed to you?” Kay Davies had a pompous smirk on her face that reminded me of Emerson. Perhaps she should have been named Head Boy.
“It’s gross that you have sex on the pitch,” I replied nonchalantly and she flushed. “Though it wasn’t too shabby since we were looking for blackmail pictures.” I shrugged and shook her hand. Suddenly Kay Davies didn’t look too confident. I wasn’t sure why. Even Wes could have seen through that lie, though maybe she didn’t want to be in the same picture as Fred’s semi-hairy rear end.
Madam Quen kicked open the large burgundy trunk beside her. She was decked out in all her padding and reffing stuff I disapproved of. It took away from the game. I couldn’t have all that padding on when going after a Quaffle—I’d miss for sure! That was probably why Bones hated me so much, my players barely wore any padding.
Was that a cup on Kay? No, it couldn’t be. No, it wasn’t, but that would have been hilarious and disgusting. She would make a very pretty man. I nearly snorted. Poor Freddie, I was pretending his girlfriend was a man.
Whatever it takes to win.
“I want a clean game,” Quen said, flipping the plastic mouth guard around in her teeth. “No cheap shots and no cheating.” She chewed on it some more. I wanted to tell her mouth guards were for your mouth.
“We’re not Slytherin,” I said and Fred made his laughter into a cough. Then it turned back into laughter when Bink flipped off one of the Ravenclaw Beaters.
“Mount your brooms then.” Quen released the Snitch and Meta didn’t even look at it. She let the Bludgers fly off toward the other side of the pitch and I stared darkly at the Quaffle in her gloved hands. I threw my leg over my broom and watched it intently. “On my whistle.” I could hear the Bludgers getting nearer. Paloma twitched from nearby. I didn’t take my eye off that ball.
Quen threw it into the air and I lunged upward, grabbing it and tucking it under my arm. I felt a surge of wind on my face and finally I felt a little better. All that Albus rubbish was off my plate for a bit and all I had to worry about was putting the little Quaffle into the—oh, what the fuck, how did Kay get that from under my arm? That bitch.
She was fast, that woman, and I wondered what performance-enhancing drugs she injected herself with before the game. She passed to another one of the Chasers, who Bink guarded carefully (who Fred dated and screwed the previously year actually) and I snuck up the center. Quidditch was a game of skill and stealth and after I punched the Quaffle out from under her arm and over to Fred I almost told her just that. You couldn’t win on talent alone, silly Ravenclaw girl, you don’t have enough.
It was thirty to ten Gryffindor after a few minutes and Avery looked spectacular. The only reason she let that one in was because there was dirt in her eye but she fixed it and fed me a thumbs-up. Meta was just flying around like a nut case. Who knew if she was even looking for the Snitch? I hoped so.
After being hit by a Bludger and being nearly knocked to the ground, Wes turned around his game so much he knocked Kay Davies off her broom (causing Fred to flinch and nearly drop the Quaffle). Unfortunately, she recovered and sent me a pompous Head-Boy-esque smirk. I yelled at her about fucking on the pitch. She narrowed her hawky eyes.
I passed to Bink, trying desperately to ignore the commentary through the stadium from Hufflepuff Ryan Walters, but at times I had no choice to hear his cheeky retorts about my throwing style. It was a perfectly fine style, thank you very much, Ryan bleeding Walters.
Fuck, though, my arm hurt about twenty minutes in. I flexed the muscle and took the Quaffle back, ducking under a Ravenclaw Beater and streaking up the pitch. I passed it to Bink, who passed it underhand back, and I did a barrel-roll to avoid a well-placed Bludger. I hated barrel-rolls because they made me dizzy and the crowd began to blur.
It was probably a good thing because Nia had a sign reading “Do Me, Captain” and I didn’t think she was talking about Kay Davies. Where were the teachers? How was that sign even allowed?
They started to chant “Go Go Gryffindor” which actually turned into “Go Home Gryffindor” because our fan base was vastly outnumbered by haters. Well, eff. They needed to stop drinking their haterade and watch the game because Bink did a wonderful side roll to avoid a Bludger and only a few people made the common “oh!” sound associated with such diligent moves.
I caught the Quaffle again, pulled my broom upward, and shot it past the Ravenclaw Keeper, who Fred also dated, only two years ago. I wondered how it was to have half a team that screwed Fred Weasley work together on drills and team bonding. I was sure it was entertaining to find the things they had in common.
“I was born in July,” one of them would say, twirling a hand around her brown hair.
“Oh yeah? How fascinating. I was actually born in November, but hey, I screwed Fred Weasley out by the lake,” another would say.
“Oh! Wow. Me too! Let’s be teammates and besties.”
Things kept blurring the longer the game went on and soon all I could see were my other two Chasers and the occasional stray Bludger. I heard Walters announce the score and it was in our favor (probably because of Avery) and I caught the Quaffle, passing it to my cousin.
That was when I saw Kay Davies come flying (obviously) out of nowhere and ram Fred on the side, knocking him clear off the side of the broom. The vixen then took the Quaffle and headed the other direction.
“FOUL!” I cried, gaping at Madam Horrible-Ref with my arms out. She shook her head. I raced after Kay while Paloma shot a Bludger at the cheating Ravenclaw whore. Bink rushed down and saved Fred from landing on his head, but then joined me in the attack.
Oh, that woman. That foul, loathsome woman. She thought she was so wonderful, knocking Freddie off his broom. His brains were already addled to begin with! What was she playing at? Come on, broom, hurry your shit up! Mum didn’t pay a lot of money to have you not catch that horrible Davies woman!
Of course I would have paid for it if I wasn’t only fifteen at the time. I wished I could of, I would have gotten the Chaser model in the window for a thousand Galleons more.
Kay was one on one with Avery, who had furrowed brows and had a rather intent look on her face. Kay deked. Avery followed. Kay threw the other way. I closed my eyes. Then I opened them. Avery launched her leg out and kicked the Quaffle with the tips of her toes.
I knew her legs couldn’t be so long for nothing!
Before that I hadn’t thought of how potentially funny Kay “ramming” Fred was. I took a moment to laugh and take the Quaffle back from Avery. I flipped Kay off.
My right arm was just burning. I couldn’t help it—all of the passing and catching and motioning wore it out. My stomach muscles also hurt from tightening them during a dive or a turn, but that was good for me. I was going to be the hot Quidditch bloke with a flat stomach and one arm bigger than the other. Bollocks. At least someone might ask to eat something off my stomach, which would be fun and it would probably tickle.
The game was one-hundred forty to seventy in our favor. Avery looked exhausted and I felt for her. Though we were trying defense, Fred wasn’t at his best. His eyes were drooping and I knew he wasn’t all there. He even dropped the Quaffle a couple times which was horribly unlike him. Clearly getting rammed did not agree with Freddie.
I glared expectantly at Meta. She chose that moment to flip me off and I wanted to punch her in the rib cage. Who did she think she was? Disrespectful maggot. Meta Maggot. That had a certain charm to it.
“Time out!” I cried and Madam Quen whistled it.
“Getting scared, Potter?” Kay said with a laugh. For some reason I never thought she’d call me Potter. I thought that was reserved for jokes between friends, authority addresses from people like cow-chewer, and disgusting Slytherins.
“We’re up almost a hundred, sod off.” I floated to the ground and met my team on our side of the pitch. They all stared at me, confused. I took a moment to clear my throat and glance at the stands where Clint Lawson was in a cast. Scorpius looked sweaty so I took that as meaning he had been doing the errands around the Lawson household.
Sexual ones. Obviously.
“What is this about?” Meta snapped. Oh, she called me “Potter” too which didn’t fit into any of them. She could just be joined into the disgusting Slytherin group.
“I need you all to take a minute of rest. Grab some water and rehydrate.”
Bink snatched some water bottles and tossed them around the team. “Good idea. I’m beat out there.”
“Fred, mate, are you okay?” I put a hand on his shoulder as he drank. “That was a hard fall.”
“Yeah. It’s sort of hard for me to see but don’t tell Quen or she’ll send me up to Bones and I won’t be able to play. Body hurts too. Fuck, I want this to be over.” He leaned against his broom, his tan skin soaked in sweat.
“The good news is we’re up by a lot,” I said, turning to the rest of the team. “Aves, you’re playing fantastic.”
“She let in seven!” snapped Meta. Avery wheeled around with a murderous look on her face. She muttered something along the lines of “not like you’re doing your job any better”.
“Did you see some of those saves? If it was anyone else she would have let in fourteen like the other Keeper. Don’t get snarky, McLaggen.” I stared sympathetically at Avery. “You lot are doing fantastic. Paloma—Wesley, keep up the good work. You make me proud. I’m glad I picked you.”
“Time out over, Potter. Get your team back in the air.” Quen was such a bitch. She could be a Slytherin too.
“Ready, team? Let’s go win this. Fuck, I’m tired.” I kicked off. Everyone went back to their positions and I noticed my entire body was covered in horrible smelling sweat. Bink looked a bit sunburned too, which I felt bad about. He grabbed the Quaffle and passed it to me and away we went back up the pitch.
“The game is back on,” Ryan Walters the obnoxious Hufflepuff said. “Apparently Captain Potter wanted to have a little water break so his Chasers could have a pee or something. Honestly, this is Quidditch. There aren’t commercials.” He let the audience chuckle (well, the Slytherins). “Now the game is back on and look who happens to have the game ball—dear Captain Potter himself. You know, until a week ago I had no idea there were other Potter kids. I just thought it was him because he has such a big head I didn’t notice the rest.” More laughs. “Anyway, Potter gets the Quaffle stolen by Ravenclaw Chaser Denise Loveletti and she moves her way back up to Keeper Flynn.”
Fuck. That Walters needed to shut his damn mouth. I could only imagine what was going through Lily and Albus’s heads. If they even went to the game. I wouldn’t blame Al if he didn’t. He was still sour with me and part of me finally understood. It wasn’t about Paloma. It was never about Paloma, she was just a gorgeous girl in the middle of it and she had no idea. In a way, I felt for her considering she fancied me for my personality and not for my status as extraordinarily sexy Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.
That was when I got a Bludger to the arm. I heard something crack and it bloody hurt (there was a “oh!” from the audience, about fucking time) but I kept going. I was thinking too much.
I wasn’t supposed to think during Quidditch! This was where I belonged, flying up in the air with my broom and the Quaffle that happened to be in possession of floozy Kay Davies. Fred stole it back. I beamed—that was my boy!
“Sometimes I wonder whether or not Potter thinks about anything other than Quidditch.” I added twit Hufflepuffs to the list of people calling me Potter. They weren’t even sly or witty enough to be Slytherins and that was saying something. “I’ve heard he skives off class to plan meetings and doesn’t date and—blimey, there they go!”
I pulled out of a dive once the Quaffle was in my hand and saw Meta and Ravenclaw Seeker that Fred dated once going toward the Gryffindor goal posts. Avery stared down. They were pretty even considering they both had the Seeker model of the new Firebolt F79 and I couldn’t tell until the scarlet and gold side jumped up and someone threw glitter into the air.
Who the fuck brought glitter to a Quidditch match?
I dropped the Quaffle and threw my arms up. Before I knew it my team was engulfing me in a smothering hug (even Meta, who still had the Snitch high over her head). I gave Wesley a little noogie and we floated to the ground in one Gryffindor clump to meet the fans.
“James!” My baby sister hugged me around the middle and I got a clump of her red hair in my mouth as I cheered. “You did it—you were fantastic. Is your arm okay?”
I glanced down at it. “Erm, I don’t think it’s broken but I heard a crack.”
“And it hurts?” Lily stared at me with that I’m-smarter-than-you look she perfected so many years ago.
“Yeah, it bloody hurts. Can you fix it? Didn’t Mum teach you rubbish like that?”
“Of course I can fix it.”
I raised a brow. “I don’t know, Lils, you’re a third year.”
“Shut up and hold still, dung head.” She took out her wand while a few other people clapped me on the back. I felt a cooling sensation and for a moment I thought about Dad’s story of losing all his bones after a Quidditch match. I wished Dad talked about Quidditch more often. Not that he didn’t, he just needed to do it more.
“There. You’re fixed.”
“You ever thought about being a Healer?” I put my arm around her and squeezed tight. “You’d be good at it. Hell, Lily, you’re good at most everything.”
“You’re quite charming, James, but I’m not into incest.” Lily laughed and I poked her in the side. “Mum told me that before, actually. It’s nice to know that I only have to live in your shadow for some things.”
“Oh, don’t be stupid, you’re already far cooler than I was at thirteen.” I smirked and kissed her on the forehead. “Now go play dollies and steal Mummy’s makeup while I talk to the big kids in the locker rooms.”
“Bugger off.” Lily smiled and shoved her way through the crowd.
It was so tight I could barely find my team in the mess. I managed to squeeze my way over to Paloma, who was hugging Wesley and talking about nerves with a few of their fifth year classmates. “There’s my Beaters!” I cried, giving them each a one-armed hug. “You two were phenomenal. Way better than Dara bleeding Wood.”
“That’s because we don’t argue with you,” Wesley said with a chuckle.
“That may me, but you’re still very good.” I glanced to Paloma’s left to see Albus walking up beside us. My stomach tightened. I thought about what Ryan Douchebag Factory said during his commentary.
“Nice job, James,” Al said, allowing himself a brief smile. “I guess all the classes you apparently skived off according to Walters paid off.”
“He’s a jealous Puff twat,” I muttered.
“Paloma, you did lovely,” he added, smiling wide at the woman he had such an obvious crush on. “You didn’t look nervous at all. James did during his first game. I could see him shaking from the stands.”
To my happy surprise, Paloma blushed quite fiercely.
“It was cold,” I snapped back, laughing a bit. “Ten minutes in the locker room, okay Beaters? See you, Al.” I shot him a thumbs-up and pushed my way through the scarlet and gold and posters to find Avery. She was on the edge of pitch closest to the locker rooms talking to her father.
Today he was dressed in a horrible red suit with a gold tie. It was very spirited but also so horrible even a fashion-dumb guy like me could pick it out. Not even Emerson would wear that which reminded me I never gave him back his suit and I doubted Fred gave back the gray lumpy dress. Mr. Flynn looked awkward as he twisted his hat in his hands and talked to his daughter.
“And that kick save—BAM!” Avery said, reenacting it with her foot. She was smiling and laughing and a few people walking by congratulated her. “God, what a game.”
“It really was,” Mr. Flynn said. “I hope your teammates are okay. The one with the fall and the other with the Bludger.”
“Freddie’s probably fine. Well, I hope. He was never really all there in the first place so I hope there’s nothing more a fall will hurt.” Avery shrugged. She looked so lighthearted and different than she did the last time she talked with her father. “As for—hey, James! C’mere.”
I waved awkwardly and walked over. Part of me didn’t know what to do. Avery was my best mate. She spent nights in my bed crying over the fact that she had no father. My dad basically adopted her and played the father figure roll all through Hogwarts and she even sent him a card and chocolate cauldrons every Father’s Day. And now this bloke was standing in front of me in that blinding red suit all smiles and back into her life.
I really just wanted to deck him in the face.
“How’s your arm?” Avery touched it gently.
“It’s fine. Lily fixed it.” I shrugged. “That girl can do anything.”
“I bet she can even play Quidditch.” Avery chuckled.
“Too dangerous,” I said, but laughed anyway.
“James, this is my dad. Dad, this is James Potter. He’s the Captain of the team and also happens to be my best mate.” She looked like she could hold her own, still breathing hard from the win and I wondered how long she would stay in this blissful euphoria of emotions.
“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” I said, shaking his hand. I was always the parent pleaser.
“Likewise. Great game you just played there, Mr. Potter. I hope to see the same showing against Hufflepuff in February.” He smiled in return.
“Oh, are you coming for the game? That’s great.” I immediately turned to Avery.
“One step at a time,” she said. “Well, it was, erm, nice seeing you, Dad. I have to go meet back in the locker rooms and shower. I’ll…I’ll owl you or something.” She tried to smile, more than likely realizing where she was and who she was talking to. Her shoulders stiffened.
“Sound great, Avery. Good luck with the rest of term.”
“Nice meeting you again, sir,” I said and nodded, steering Avery toward the locker room with my hand on the small of her back. “A little awkward?”
“Sort of,” she said as we dodged a few celebrating fans. “It was nice of him to come though even after I chewed him out like Harvey chews gum. Horrid suit, though.”
“I thought he bought it from Emerson for a minute there.” I pushed open the door to find my team grabbing towels and heading for the showers. “Team, great work out there!” I cried, tossing my robes on the bench in front of my locker. “Now get clean before I talk to you because I don’t want you smelling up the room.”
I picked the shower furthest from the door and turned on the water. The walls were to my chest (to Wesley’s neck) so I could see the heads of my male teammates. I grabbed the manly shampoo bottle Dad bought me when Mum wasn’t looking and heaved an enormous sigh. “So, we won.”
“Thank god,” Wesley breathed. “I finally feel like I can swallow right. Before my throat was dry.”
“Do you swallow often?” Bink chuckled and squirted soap over onto Wes. “Where’d Freddie go?”
I glanced around. “I guess I didn’t see him come in. Maybe Kay and him cleared off a spot in the middle of the crowd to get it on.”
“She looked a bit peeved.” Bink made a face.
“Women!” Fred Weasley always made such a classy entrance. The shower room door slammed open, and he threw his towel forcefully against the sink before undressing and turning on the water to his own stall. “I bleeding hate them, seriously.”
“What did Kay do other than knock you off your broom?” Bink smirked.
“James, did you tell her you took pictures of us on the pitch?”
I roared with laughter. “I might have mentioned it, why?”
Fred narrowed his eyes over the walls. “And that was a fabricated lie, correct?”
“Of course, I’m not scoping out you two doing it when I’m not even getting laid,” I said cheerfully, leaning against the wall to stop myself from slipping after laughing so hard.
“She was all up in arms about it. She said that threw her off and she was so worried or some rubbish and she completely hates you by the way. Why do you have to go throwing my girlfriend off her game?”
I stared. “She’s the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain.”
He grunted. “Not to mention she’s not happy about losing. I told her she should get a better team and then she told me I should stop fucking the girls on her team. I told her I didn’t have sex with one of the female Beaters.”
“And how did she take that?” Bink asked, clearly trying to stifle his laughter.
“She told me to screw the dude Beater and walked off.” Fred shrugged in irritation. “Women. Seriously. Do they all do that or is it just Ravenclaws?”
“I think it might be all of them,” Wesley interjected.
I glanced over. “You know a lot about women, Wes?”
“I have a lot of them as my friends, Captain.”
“Good answer, mate. Good answer. And my baby sister?”
“We’re friends, James.” Wes gave me a very seventh-year look for such a fifth year. “I know you hate me talking to her but we’re friends. You have a friend that’s a girl. I have a friend that’s a girl.”
“Don’t be looking at Avery now, you’re teammates.”
“I was not looking at Avery!”
I narrowed my eyes. “Then how did you know she was a girl?”
Bink snorted. “Lay off, James, poor bloke nearly peed himself in the shower. Besides, a blind person would notice Avery. She’s gorgeous and those grades. Spectacular.”
“Since when did you guys care about academics?” Wesley rinsed his hair and stared back and forth between the three of us.
“Wes,” Fred said, turning off his water with a sly grin, “I think it’s time you learned the ways of the male Quidditch player. There are a lot of things you don’t know, especially about grades.”
“I have good grades!” Wes said defensively.
“Wes, your grades are horrible,” I said, laughing loudly. “But that’s a good thing. You don’t want grades if you’re a guy.” I turned off my water and reached for the towel, wrapping its cotton-y goodness around my waist and wondering if anyone wanted to eat off my stomach yet. “You have a lot to learn, Wes. First, let’s get you liquored up at the party so I can hex you for asking my sister to dance.”
A/N: Sorry about the minor delay of this chapter. I was celebrating my 21st birthday and then was Internetless in New York City for 5 days. Was anyone else at the premiere? I was there and got some amazing pictures of the cast--I also went to the Mugglecast taping the next day. It was a great time and thanks everyone for the birthday wishes!
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It was crazy to write since I've never written a Quidditch match from a Chaser's POV before. I am rather happy with it though. I'm glad things wil Albus and James seem to be nearer to a satisfying point. And that Kay Davies...who knows?
So favorite quotes? Favorite parts? Favorite idea of who brought glitter to a Quidditch match?
EDIT: Anyone going to the midnight showing of HBP? I'll be there dressed up as Lavender Brown haha.
Next chapter: someone gets punched in the face.
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