Catharsis | James Sirius Potter

[ 12 | gryffindor vs hufflepuff ]

"James! James– OI, BLOCKHEAD! THE
QUAFFLE! DAVIES HAS THE QUAFFLE! MOVE!"

"Mister Stewart! You cannot insult the players!" Years would go by, but Professor– Headmistress McGonagall would never catch a break when it came to controlling the Quiditch commentators. They should stop making them all Gryffindors!

"Sorry, Min— er– Professor, sorry– though, technically, I'm just calling him a tree, it's not- oh, thank God! Yes, James– Potter. Potter. That really is a Keeper, if I've ever seen one!" Thomas had trouble remembering that commentating a Quidditch game was not just voicing his internal monologue, but some would say it was precisely that what gave it its appeal. "Can you hear my teeth clattering through this? 'Cause I can, but I'm not sure if that's me, or if it's an actual-"

"We hear you just fine, Stewart,  please commentate the game. In an unbiased way—"

"Will do! I'm on it. Uh– okay, Hufflepuff in possession of the Quaffle again. Davies passes it to Darren– good catch... Darren to Dennison... hey, that's a lot of 'D' names, it's funny— ah, never mind! Bludger hits him on the side– thanks for that one, Fred..." He pretended to ignore McGonagall's dangerous look, "Dominique Weasley has it now, that's my favourite hag!"

"STEWART!"

"We don't have a cheer team, Professor, I'm giving my everything here!"

"What are you, keeper of hearts?" Lucy asked cheekily. Her comment would've been carried away by the wind if she hadn't flown so close to James, who revelled in the attention coming from the Quidditch stands.

He very much looked forward to said attention, he would admit, but he was far more pleased that Lucy took the time to notice it. "I'm the Keeper, you're a catch, then?"

"That was just terrible! Terrible!" Lucy exclaimed, laughter accompanying her every word.

"You know what I just thought of? We could actually win if all players remained focused! Isn't that right, Professor? Shocking concept, really!" Thomas began saying, pretending to look ahead, like it was a casual rant. No complaints could be heard or seen from Professor McGonagall this time.

"For Godric's sake," Lucy muttered at his impropriety, but didn't want to risk another comment of those in such a public scenery, so she headed to the edges of the pitch to have another look around, dodging a sneaky bludger on her way there, on time for Dominique to score another goal for their team. But, Lucy made an effort to not concentrate on anyone's goals, and she forced herself to move her eyes away from their team's goalposts, too. The snitch was what mattered.

The Hufflepuff Seeker was quite the pick. Riley Alcott was a fourth-year student who looked like they were constantly in the border of a nervous attack, had almost fallen off their broom in dismay when Lucy winked at them, but managed to gracefully duck when the two bludgers came for them from different sides. They had something going on. Their one problem was that they cheered for two seconds too long after Emma Davies scored a goal for Hufflepuff.

Their eyes widened big as saucers when they saw the gravity of their mistake, immediately bolting down to attempt to catch up with Lucy, whose right arm was outstretched, bare inches away from the snitch. Too late to catch it themselves, and too late to stop the broom, as well, her grasp had already closed around the golden ball by the time their body collided with hers, accidentally too harshly.