That's Ace {Fourth book in The 'I am Who?' Series}

Chapter 6

During the day Ace tried his best to avoid everyone. He simply wasn't in the mood for human interaction and contact. He had quidditch practise later on that day and that would be enough for the day. However, his wishes were far from granted, if it wasn't Sam or his siblings, it was his cousins, or other students. Ace wanted to scream and shout to be left alone but it was like his voice was kept in a box, locked away until the allowed time to speak, a bit like a hospital and its visiting hours.

Instead, his fingered toyed with the dung bomb in his pocket. In the middle or being crowded by his siblings, Teddy and Sam, he plucked the pin from the bomb and dropped it by Teddy's foot. His actions made it look as if it was the elder boys problem and just as the stench began to pour from the shell he walked away, the thick green cloud of smoke covering his tracks and his feet picking up speed. Tugging his wand out of his pocket, he performed a spell to rid him of the smell as he made his way down to the bridge.

The bridge was quite a serene place to sit or stand during the day. Unless it was a Hogsmeade weekend nobody really crossed the crooked bridge meaning Ace could his away there easily. With his back pressed against the wall he leaned his head back, his eyes closing with a sigh. The air was quite cold, steam emitting from his parted lips and clouding for a brief moment before disappearing. If only it was that simple to disappear or to make things happen. Yes, as a wizard, he could cast a charm or a spell but still it wasn't as simple as breathing out. You have to learn the incantation and wand movement, concentration also helps but with a sigh it is innate and comes naturally to people.

Opening his eyes, he noticed a small rock on the floor beside his foot. How it got there was a mystery, he didn't care for mysteries all that much. Staring at it intently, Ace focused all of his attention on the rock. For what reason? Perhaps it was because a rock so small and inanimate couldn't have possibly got onto the bridge on its own. Or the fact that Ace couldn't control his emotions at that point and was acting under the control of something that wasn't there.

Maybe he blinked?

Maybe he nudged it without realising win his foot?

Or the wind was the reason?

Ace was sure the rock just moved; only a small, tiny, barley noticeable length from where it was originally. But it did move. He was sure of that.

Dead certain.

* * *

Hitting bludger after bludger, Ace was unstoppable. No bludger that hurtled towards him was missed. He skidded through the air, swinging his beaters bat whenever he had too and boy was the captain, Peter Kirk, ecstatic. Like previous captains, Peter had his heart set on the cup this year, it was his last year after all, and much like Oliver Wood, he was obsessed with the sport.

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

Sam couldn't even get a shot it, he was the other beater and he just seemed to be flying around the pitch. He had never seen such determination on his best friends face, but then again, lately he didn't really know what to expect from Ace. Excluding the train ride to school, Ace was acting different to usual, and everyone could tell, even students from other houses. Of course, it didn't bother many other people other than his family and close friends, some girls even claimed it made him even "hotter", but to those close to him there was something going on. It didn't look like something good.

Every time Sam had tried to talk to Ace about it he would ignore his comment or occasionally change the subject. He knew, like everyone else did, that the boy was very private and rather quiet, but this was furthering that. If Ace was the sun, his sudden change in ways would be Pluto. No, scratch that, the next galaxy!

However, if it meant that Gryffindor would win the house cup this year, Sam was prepared to give him his space. After all, it wasn't as if they had Harry Potter as the seeker anymore. However, Ace is the son of one of the Weasley twins, nephew to three former captains, quidditch was in his blood and that meant quidditch was a war about to be won.

"Well done, Ace! Keep it up!" Praised Peter, throwing his fist into the air as Ace made one more hit. "Come on, Sam! Pick it up will you!"

Sam rolled his eyes and pressed his broom further to pick up speed, he swung his bat and finally got a shot in only for the ball to come soaring towards him, and he was already for the ball to hit him, not being able to swing his bat quick enough when Ace jumped in and smacked it away.

"Cheers, bro." He smiled. Ace didn't say anything, didn't smile or nod- nothing.

What was going on with him?

Ace kept his green eyes on the bludgers, he shoved his teammates out the way and hit the balls away from them. All of which thanked him. He didn't respond. He was only doing his job. To protect his teammates from the dangerous balls. He didn't think he needed to repeat "your welcome" every ten seconds. Quite frankly, he didn't think he needed to do anything but keep them away from the bludgers.

What he did other than that was a choice not a duty. Sharing his feelings was a choice. Actions was a choice. Everything was a choice. Being a beater was a duty.

The only duty he would let control him by choice.