Chapter Twelve: A Well-Earned Win

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Ravenclaw had caught up with Gryffindor and now they were tied at 60:60. Virgil's eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his skull. He didn't think he'd ever had them open so wide in his life. He was gripping Patton's arm because his hands had started to shake upon seeing Roman's nearly devastating incident with the Bludger. "Oh my god... how is he not unconscious?" he said, looking at the Hufflepuff with concern.

"That's a great question Virge, I'm not sure," he replied, smiling with as much comfort as he could muster. "Roman's very tough but we'll make sure he goes to the medical wing after the game."

He nodded and refocused on the game, picking out Val hovering around wherever Roman was flying. Even at a distance, Virgil could make out the frustrated and concerned expression of the Beater; if he had to guess, he probably felt guilty for not flying in to hit the Bludger away. The hit had almost resulted in Gryffindor losing a Chaser, and their best one at that.

Speaking of which, Roman was struggling to breathe on his broomstick. The pain in his chest combined with the altitude and pressure of flying was making it incredibly difficult to stay balanced. He hoped it wasn't noticeable.

"Roman! Heads up!" his teammate called, passing him the Quaffle.

He frowned with determination and swooped toward the ball. As he did so, a Ravenclaw Chaser soared passed but missed the Quaffle. Roman gasped as the ball fell toward the ground, tipping his broom downward to rocket after it. The Ravenclaw Chaser came back and knocked into his side, staying next to him as they both raced for the Quaffle.

Come on, come on, pull up already! he yelled within his mind, glaring at his opponent.

This as a game of Chicken essentially; with the Quaffle going toward the ground, they could either pull up and let another Chaser with a better angle go for it, or they could dive for it and see who pulled up first. There was always the risk that they would pull up too late and crash, but if they didn't, they'd almost certainly get the Quaffle.

I'm getting that damn Quaffle, Roman thought. He narrowed his eyes on the red ball that was hovering above the field, being bewitched to stay air-born if it fell. I don't care what I have to do! I'm getting it!

He closed in on the Quaffle and reached out to snatch it up when several rapid jabs hit him in the rib cage, making him sputter and spiral passed the ball toward the ground. He wasn't flying completely vertical, so the impact wasn't as bad as it could've been, but he definitely felt it when he hit the field. Roman let out a groan as dull pain covered his body and he struggled to his hands and knees.

The whistle of the referee was blown. "RAVENCLAW: COBBING FOUL! 10 POINT DEDUCTION!" she called out. She blew the whistle again in two short bursts. "GRYFFINDOR CALLS TIME OUT!"

Roman was breathing heavily as he fought against his swimming gaze. The amount of chest pain he was experiencing was nothing like he'd ever experienced before. He'd been hit by a Bludger, but never directly in the chest, and on top of that, he'd been elbowed hard enough to knock his broom off course and hit the ground.

His teammates landed on the field and made their way over to him. Val and his captain, Erica Stoker, knelt down beside him. "Are you okay?" they both asked.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine, just need a minute," he replied as he focused on his breathing.

"Come on, let's get you off the field," Val said. He looped one of Roman's arms around his shoulders and hoisted him to his feet with ease. Erica took up his other arm and the three of them made their way slowly toward the sidelines where the rest of the team was taking their time out. "I can't believe the ref actually called that cobbing foul, but it was pretty damn obvious that she hit you with the intent to injury."

Erica nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I think under other circumstances she wouldn't have called the foul but you took a Bludger to the chest earlier, so she probably thought it was unnecessary roughness."

They sat him down on a bench and he put a hand to his ribs, breathing slowly. There was nothing broken, fortunately, but it definitely still hurt to breathe. "I can still play," he told his captain with firmness. "I know my limits and this definitely isn't it. A bit of chest pain is nothing I can't handle."

"If you're absolutely sure," she replied, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You know that no one would blame you for tapping out."

"If I do, you'll be down a Chaser, and they'll have a chance to catch up, even with the deduction from the foul," Roman said as he shook his head. "No, I'm playing, I'm alright. I'll go see Madam Pomfrey after the match, but I'm winning this game."

Erica nodded and signaled one of their teammates to tall the referee they were ready to resume the game. He took a deep breath and got to his feet. He smiled to himself as he picked up his broom; he could still win this.

The two teams were back up in the air moments later and the crowd cheered enthusiastically for Roman as he flew passed. He smirked and looked toward the Ravenclaw goalposts.

He was going to win.

Fifteen minutes of game play passed and Gryffindor was leading 80:60, Ravenclaw having scored their ten points from the deduction back. Roman was sweating as he bobbed and weaved through the Ravenclaw Chasers, holding onto the Quaffle tightly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a Bludger coming toward him.

I'm not making this mistake again, he thought to himself as he leaned forward. As the Bludger neared him and he neared the goalposts, he flipped himself upside-down, dodging the ball. While inverted, he hurled the Quaffle toward one of the goals. As it soared through, the crowd cheered, making Roman's heart swell with pride as he flipped back. That's how you play Quidditch man, that's how you do it!

Virgil clapped happily as the Gryffindor Chaser flew passed them, a smile on his face. He was enjoying himself much more than he'd thought he would. He could understand why people liked the excitement of it.

"Hey Roman, Ruby's going for the Snitch! We've just got to stall them and keep them from scoring!" a fellow, non-binary Chaser, Kris Fox, called to him as they flew beside him.

He nodded to Kris in acknowledgement. They zipped around the field, stealing the Quaffle whenever they could. Fortunately, their Keeper was on high alert because of how close the game was to being over. Whenever a Chaser from Ravenclaw got passed them, their Keeper was there to block the score attempt.

Ten minutes later, Gryffindor had won. Roman punched their air and let out a triumphant cheer. His pain was secondary in his mind as he soared down to the field to hug his teammates. His friends in the bleachers were yelling and cheering for them. Val picked up the Chaser in a big hug that made him gasp.

"Hey! Hey, Val! Bruised ribs, remember?" he managed to get out.

He flushed in embarrassment and put him down. He laughed bashfully. "Sorry!"

"I'm so happy we won," Roman said, smiling to himself as he held his ribs. They hurt, but it was so worth it. He'd proven he couldn't be knocked out of the game by just some chest pain. He'd played well and they'd earned their win. He looked up toward his friends, seeing Patton hugging Virgil in excitement. The house-less student was smiling a rare, teeth-filled smile. Roman beamed wider. "That was so worth it."

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