Cursive Conundrums

xviii

James woke up the next morning with a grin.

Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.

Their first match and the second game of the season.

Slytherin had destroyed Hufflepuff the previous week 320-50 no doubt thanks to Regulus Black not quitting.

"Get up boys!" He shouted. "Game day!"

Peter groaned, "just because you have to get up at the crack of dawn doesn't mean we do!"

"Game day!" James repeated with a laugh.

A half hour later he was leading a trail of bleary-eyed marauders down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Morning, Cap," Marlene yawned, falling into step with him, "ready for today?"

James nodded with a grin, "I reckon it'll be a good one. We're fairly matched with Slytherin."

"What's your prediction?" She asked.

"Early lead for us, Slytherin catches the snitch, but we win with points."

"Confident in your abilities, aren't ya?" Remus laughed.

"You bet," James grinned, "and Regulus Black's seeking skills. Bloke is mad on a broom."

Sirius scoffed and rolled his eyes.

The team slowly filed into the hall, taking various seats surrounding James as he talked vicariously about his plan for the match.

"Everyone finish up and meet me in the locker room." He said, standing from the table.

"The match isn't for another hour." Trevor Spinnet protested.

"It's not my fault you got plastered last night, Mate," James laughed, "we've still got to warm up. Take a pepperup."

The stands were filled with green and red, the whole school seemingly had come out to see the match.

"Captains!" Madam Hooch's whistle sounded and James's walked out onto the pitch.

He was met with cheering and gave a dramatic bow, waving to the crowd.

"Shake hands," she ordered.

Lucinda Talkalot held out her perfectly manicured hand and James took it.

"Gryffindor, your call." Madam Hooch said.

"Heads."

She threw the coin in the air.

"Gryffindor's pick."

"Slytherin can have the quaffle." James nodded, "we want the right side."

"Very well." Madam Hooch blew her whistle once again.

"Players take the field!"

The two teams filed out of the locker rooms, taking their positions.

"On my whistle!"

The whistle blew and fourteen players took to the sky.

The bludgers and the snitch was released and the game had begun.

Trevor Spinnet hit a bludger towards the Slytherin with the quaffle and it dropped and was quickly recovered by Marlene.

"Potter!" James caught the ball and soared towards the Slytherin goal posts.

"Fuck yeah! James Potter with the first goal of the game, ladies and gents."

"Mr. Lupin!"

"Sorry, Minnie."

James shook his head with a laugh, grinning up at Remus in the commentator stand.

Just as he had expected, Gryffindor took an early lead, 120-10 by the first hours.

He had the quaffle tucked under his arm, his chest nearly flat on his broom as he spun to avoid a Bludger.

The Slytherin chasers were on either side of him, jostling him to get the ball.

James dropped quickly into a steep dive and pulled up with a turn towards the goal post.

He was going to score again. He adjusted the quaffle in his hand and drew back his arm and—somebody was screaming.

Somebody was screaming?

James looked over his shoulder, immediately dropping the Quaffle; shooting to the other side of the pitch.

"Potter! What the bloody fuck are you doing?" Marlene shrieked.

But James wasn't paying attention to her.

Regulus Black was falling from several feet above.

Everyone was watching him in shock, but James was urging his broom faster. He set into a dive, his fingers wrapping around Regulus's collar a second before he hit the ground.

James was too low to pull up and the two of them went tumbling to the ground.

They hit the grass and the momentum of the broom sent them skidding across the pitch.

James held Regulus's head to his chest, keeping a hand supporting his neck.

Madam Hooch rushed over, blowing her whistle frantically to stop the game.

"Mr. Potter!" She fell to her knees next to them, "are you alright?"

"I'm fine," James groaned, placing Regulus on the grass, "check on him first."

James assumed he had got hit by a bludger, a welt was on his hairline and blood dripped down his forehead.

"Straight to the hospital, the both of you." Madam Pomfrey declared, rushing onto the field.

"Detention, Spinnet!" McGonagall shrieked, "that was an illegal hit."

James felt himself being levitated onto a stretcher.

"I can walk!" He protested.

"Quiet, Potter," McGonagall snapped.

James shut his mouth. His glasses were cracked, a line going across his left eye, and his right arm had a cut from his wrist to his elbow, he had gotten nicked by a rock as they slid.

"It's broken." Madam Pomfrey declared as they sat in the hospital wing.

"Oh, that's fine," James shrugged, "easy fix? Right?"

Madam Pomfrey frowned, "typically," she said, "but there's no way of knowing if you've got nerve damage, but with a break like this I highly suspect it. I'm keeping you overnight."

"No," James groaned, "Poppy, please don't, it's so boring in here."

"You're staying, Mr. Potter," she said with a stern glare.

"Fine." He huffed, leaning back on the pillows.

"I'll have to contact his parents." Madam Pomfrey said.

"No!" James said quickly, "no you can't."

Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall both raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's procedure, Mr. Potter."

"He's told his parents that he quit Quidditch." James said, "they can't know he still plays."

"And how do you know this?" McGonagall frowned.

"He told me." James said, "he got a letter just last week about it."

"That seems very unlikely, Mr. Potter," McGonagall frowned, "I don't recall ever seeing the pair of you interacting civilly in the years you've been here."

"We're partners for patrol." James explained. "Just please hold off on telling them. You can ask him when he wakes."

"Very well," Madam Pomfrey nodded, "we won't make any decisions without Mr. Black's consent."

James felt the panic reside and he smiled graciously, "thank you."

"Get some rest, Mr. Potter."