Chapter Text
Chapter Fifty-One: It all comes down to this.
‘Match day!’ Morden called out, cheerfully. James sat up, feeling slightly nauseous. This was it, Gryffindor’s final match of the year. His last match of the fifth year, but also, the very last chance they had as a team to do it for Thwaite. It was going to be a big event. Families had even been invited, which usually only happened for finals. As well as the quidditch match, there were several showcases for other subjects, meaning there’d be even more eyes on him.
More people would see if he fainted again. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He’d spent so long preparing for this.
‘Mum and Dad, too,’ James said, softly, to Athena. ‘Wonder if you’ll recognise them, eh?’
He wondered if his parents would recognise him. They’d dropped off a fairly bouncy fifteen-year-old, almost six months ago. Now, they’d be greeted by a taller, thinner sixteen-year-old, who’d changed drastically. James roughly towelled his hair dry, then pulled on his robes. Best not to overthink it. Even if they didn’t win, at least Mum’d say all the right stuff afterwards. There was going to be a special dinner for the visiting families.
‘Are your folks coming?’ James asked Morden, watching as the beater tied his laces.
‘Mum and Dad, our grandad would but he’s a muggle and it’s too tricky. Ash and I have just got each other as siblings but that’s all we’ve needed.’ Morden finished one boot then started the next. ‘You said yesterday your parents are?’
‘Yeah. Only child. Still, not so bad. I wanted a brother growing up but mainly so I had someone to practice quidditch with. My parents are a bit on the older side and rather cautious so the older I got and more able I was to play, the less Dad was happy to go up in the air with me.’ James replied. He took a deep breath. ‘Thwaite always said that’s why she didn’t mind being in such a big family. Her brother’s not into playing but likes the teams, and her older sister was on the team at some point, I think. We’ll have to see what the twins we’ve all been warned about are like. Suppose they could end up getting on when I’m in my final year.’
‘They say it runs in your blood, quidditch.’
Something about Morden’s choice of words, although there was no malice at all, made James feel slightly queasy. ‘Yeah, I guess.’
Lily was in the common room, and jumped up and hurried towards him. ‘You’ll do brilliantly!’ she said, enthusiastically. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’
He smiled, despite everything. ‘Thanks, Lily. If it all goes well, we’ll have something to really celebrate.’
‘I’ll be cheering you on.’
Part of the agreement for him playing in the match was a visit to see Madam Pomfrey first, as well as eating breakfast in the hospital wing. It was frustrating to be infantilised so much, but he gritted his teeth and said nothing. Playing was the important thing. He’d do it. He’d be fine.
‘Thanks,’ he said, as he was finally allowed to go. He grabbed his kit bag and swung his legs round. It was still early to head down but he wanted to make sure he had time to greet his mum and dad first. ‘For doing so much, I mean.’
‘You’re welcome, James. Now, I don’t want to see any of you or your teammates after this match unless you’re bringing the trophy in to show me,’ the mediwitch warned him, with a smile. ‘See if every player can get through this game intact, that’ll be the best thanks I could get.’
It was warm. He wouldn’t need his usual undershirt. He might even need suncream, if it got any brighter. These were the best conditions you could ask for. Not too hot, so his hands wouldn’t sweat, but it was clear as crystal. This was his first match where he had responsibility for the team and the tactics, as well as his first chance in a while to prove his worth. He didn’t care about winning, or glory, or what anyone else thought. He had to do it for him, and he had to do it for Thwaite.
‘Ready?’
Hannah was in front of him. Her hair was pulled back tightly off her face, and she was wearing her robes from the previous year. ‘Ready.’ James replied, surprised by how confident he sounded. ‘We’ve got this.’
‘Ben’s going to watch. He found me earlier.’ Hannah said. ‘I’ve been writing to Mer’s family every few days, hoping I can tell them if it goes well. She’s in a… coma. You know?’
He’d had to learn the hard way what that meant, recently.
‘Yeah.’
‘They don’t know how much she can hear, but they think she might be able to understand some of what they’re saying. I hope so. She gets bored easily,’
The rest of the team trickled in. Jenks, as to be expected, was the first to arrive after James and Hannah, and Beck, as to be expected, was the last. The atmosphere was better than James had expected, and everyone seemed excited to be playing. ‘Even if we don’t win, nobody can dare say we’ve not done well to be here and be up for a match after so much has gone on,’ Ash said, stoutly. ‘I’m glad we’re seeing the season out. We’ve had our ups and our downs, but this team has been a special one, this year. To us!’
You could hear the roar of the spectators outside. With no trips to Hogsmeade, and the library quickly having run out of appeal as an alternative location to the common rooms, it seemed every single student had decided that quidditch was a worthwhile use of their afternoon. ‘Gryffindor! Gryffindor!’
Eliana had made each of them an armband with a lion on, as well as “MR” stitched underneath, and shyly gave them out a few minutes before they were due to go on. Hannah had to swallow hard.
‘Right. Day, don’t let Vanity disorient you and watch Reike. If he dives, we know he usually is bluffing. Wyll and Wyll, keep that bludger out of Rosier and Kail’s reach- tactic is to keep it away from us rather than sending hits. Beck- watch that quaffle. Jenks, Hannah- fast, fluent. Right. Right. Off we go.’
James gulped down another mouthful of water, inhaled through his nose and grabbed his broom. ‘This is it. Come on, Gryffindor.’
The noise from the spectators almost knocked him to the floor once they opened the door and set foot onto the pitch. Both teams were simultaneously stepping out at once and there was an eruption of cheering and booing from across the stadium. James marched out, leading the team, Hannah just behind him. He was going to be the one to shake Emma Vanity’s hand and kick the match off.
‘James!’
In a cacophony of voices, that one made him turn around immediately. Boarding school had taught him enough to let his brain catch up for a second and he kept his mouth closed.
Mum. It was Mum and Dad.
He grinned, waving. For a moment, he felt slightly shy. And then, Hannah bumped lightly into the back of him, and he had to nod and keep on walking. He could do this. He knew he could.
Kick-off. He rose, right into the formation agreed. One of the ones Thwaite had spent her Easter holidays planning. Slytherin had the quaffle, but missed, and Jenks dived like a hummingbird and grabbed it. A slightly clumsy throw, but Hannah had it, James had it, and then… he couldn’t make the goal. He threw it to Jenks, who scored the first goal of the game. Ten points.
Slytherin had been watching the strategy that Gryffindor’s chasers had used last game. Harvey, Reid and Blakeford were weaker than their opponents, but Slytherin had banked on their beaters. Ash and Morden aimed well and were defensive, but they didn’t have the power or nerve that Slytherin had. One or two of their passes ended up being interrupted because a bludger was heading right at a Gryffindor chaser, and Jenks almost came off.
‘Move closer, Morden!’ James yelled. ‘Come in to defend!’
Gryffindor scored again, but then so did Slytherin, only two minutes later. James had to pause for a moment to get his breath, meaning Hannah had to double up. By the time James was back on form, Beck was having to really work hard to cover all three goals.
Foul from Slytherin- Vanity went too high trying to return a ball. The quaffle went to Gryffindor, and Jenks looked around. James bellowed a direction, and swooped in. He had to roll fully, more than relieved to be using the saddle. He had almost sat back up when he had to flatten forwards from a bludger skimming the top of his head. He ruffled his hair, exhaled, and then aimed. Another point.
Slytherin weren’t giving them any breaks. They scored, making the game 30:20 to Gryffindor. Keeping the quaffle out of Slytherin’s hands wasn’t especially hard work, but keeping it between them and passing and scoring without getting knocked off or taking a bludger to the head was a real challenge, and one that James felt they should have prepared better for. Luckily, Beck’s new role as keeper wasn’t too much. When they got the quaffle, they generally aimed it very well, but James was proud of their possession.
At the break, James guzzled water, and panted out more instructions. ‘Two more goals to us, keep at three points ahead, and you can get ready to get the snitch.’ Eliana was reminded. ‘We’re doing well. Ash, try and do some more of those far shots, that keeps them busy.’
The strategy worked. The beaters were much stronger for Gryffindor. In less than ten minutes, they had the two goals they needed, and were thirty points up. It was time for them to start getting the snitch and ending the game.
Much to James’ frustration, and presumably, Eliana’s, the snitch was proving more difficult. It didn’t look like Reike was having much luck either. James saw him dip in to speak with Vanity. He looked around himself, as Hannah was retrieving a very low ball that Reid had thrown wildly to Harvey. He couldn’t catch the snitch himself, but he could try and tip his seeker off somehow.
‘James!’
He ducked just in time to avoid the next speeding brown sphere heading right his way. Thank Merlin for Jenks.
Finally, when the score was 120:70 to Gryffindor, Day and Reike both seemed to spot something and head in the same direction. Reike had more height and speed but Eliana was much tighter with her turns. James finally spotted the snitch that they were tracking. The little chip of gold twisted then changed direction; Eliana stayed on track with it, though Reike moved quickly back into formation after careering off. It was neck and neck.
Jenks and Hannah managed to score again, mostly due to the other players being distracted.
WHACK! Ash yelped, and James whipped his head around. Her broomstick was almost in half and sinking. Rosier was laughing with delight from fifty metres away, head thrown back. Ash clutched the remaining part of her broom desperately, as she dropped down to the pitch. Fortunately, Professor McGonagall, who had done an excellent job of being discreet throughout the game, made sure the beater made it to the ground safely. Gryffindor was now down a player.
‘Come on, Day, get it.’ James moaned, through his gloves. He went higher than the rest, posed to dive for the quaffle if needed, but waiting for Eliana. They were second to Ravenclaw when it came to final scores, already. They’d need the snitch to confirm it.
He could push, get more goals. Up it even more. But if things changed… no. He couldn’t risk pushing himself too far. He’d made that mistake last time.
Eliana edged forwards. The snitch was on the right, favouring Reike. He saw Eliana let her broom drop, roll under Reike’s path and then jostle for position.
It was over like that.
James let out a whoop, as Eliana dived to join them, the little gold wings sticking out from under her fingers. She looked utterly jubilant.
‘We did it!’ she bellowed. She hugged James in mid-air, to his shock. ‘We won!’
It was still sinking in when he got to the ground. Hannah was crying, though she was laughing at the same time. ‘She’d be so proud,’ Hannah sobbed, and grabbed James tightly. ‘We did it. We won for Mer!’
It was the best feeling that he’d had in months. He had to keep looking up at the scoreboard to check it was really happening. They’d won the House Cup.
‘James!’ All of a sudden, two arms were around him and a scent so familiar he’d forgotten it filled his nose.
‘Mum.’
She wouldn’t stop hugging him and it was getting pretty embarrassing, though he was grinning like a madman. Dad kept patting him on the back.
‘Knew you’d do it, son. You earned that win.’
They were all with their families in one of the classrooms downstairs, though the furniture had been pushed back to make things feel like more of a party. The atmosphere was jubilant. Eliana's mum was talking to Professor McGonagall in earnest, whilst a boy who must have been her younger brother looked horribly embarrassed to be there. Ash and Morden’s parents looked just as jolly as they were.
Beck’s parents were there, too, plus his younger sister. Hannah had run off to write a letter to let Thwaite’s family know the outcome.
Jenks was there, and James realised that the woman with him was too young to be his mother. What was his sister called, again? Meredith and Hannah had told him quite a few times, she’d been captain of the team when they’d first started playing for Gryffindor. Aargh. What was it? It began with an I, didn’t it Isabella? Ingrid? No, that wasn’t it. Imogen? Yes! Imogen.
Jenks was grinning at her, and they were chatting. James slipped past his parents, who were talking to Madam Pomfrey as if he wasn’t there anyway, and went over to them. ‘Jolly well played,’ he said, and gave Jenks an awkward pat on the shoulder. ‘First goal of the game. You did a great job.’
Imogen smiled. They didn’t look particularly alike at first, then suddenly he saw it. ‘Told him he’d smash it. See, Tom? You must be James. I’ve heard a lot about you.’
He shook her hand. ‘Same with you. Meredith and Hannah always spoke very highly of you.’
Imogen dropped her voice, looking serious. ‘Any news on Meredith?’
‘Not much, I’m afraid. It’s awful. Have you seen Hannah, yet?’
‘We’ve written. I must make sure to find her before I leave.’ Imogen said. ‘Oh, good, Professor McGonagall’s free. Back in a moment.’
Jenks watched his sister hurry towards her old head of house and turned to James. ‘We did so well,’ he said, ‘You were great out there.’
‘We all were. You, too. You’re a great player, Jenks. Slytherin felt like seven players; we were a team.’
Seeing Mum and Dad again was just as good as he’d hoped it would be. They were delighted by Athena and said how impressed they were at her loyalty and intelligence. Professor McGonagall made her way around everybody’s families. She was very complimentary towards James, and he was grateful that she didn’t even hint at his medical situation during their chat, focusing instead on his quidditch. She said he’d grown in maturity. He guessed he had, since he’d last seen his parents.
They found a bench in the courtyard and watched Athena fly as James opened the things they’d brought him back from the United States. There were several postcards, to add to his collection of the ones that the owls had delivered, plus more photographs. It felt strange, seeing and hearing about it all. So much had happened where he had been that it seemed almost impossible to think that there could be anything going on in other places.
‘We’re planning to go back in a few years, maybe five. You’ll be twenty-one. We’d love you to come with us,’ said Mum. She gave him yet another hug. ‘Oh, you’ve grown up, my James. So tall and handsome.’
‘Mum,’ he said, though he was smiling.
‘I’ve had a chat with Madam Pomfrey,’ she continued. She ran her fingers through his hair, rolling her eyes absent-mindedly at how long his fringe was. ‘Sounds like you’ve done really well managing this. I mean, you played and won a quidditch match today, didn’t you?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You did well, son,’ said his father, and patted James’ shoulder. ‘I’m glad you’ve put this past you. I’m sure you’ll be captain next year, you were the best one up there by a country mile.’
James wasn’t sure why he felt his stomach twinge, but he tried to focus on the second part of his father’s comment.
‘It’s not past him,’ Euphemia reminded her husband. She rolled her eyes again at James, but it was less easy. ‘Remember. He’s got to keep managing it like he does now. We’ve talked about this, Monty, it’s not curable.’
‘Well, keep managing, then, James.’ Fleamont rolled his eyes at James, as his wife rummaged in her handbag for something else. ‘Doesn’t seem to be holding you back too badly.’
It was harder than he’d thought to say goodbye again the next morning. He wasn’t part of any of the showcases, and his parents weren’t especially interested in seeing any of the other students’ work when they didn’t know them. They’d stayed at the Three Broomsticks and walked up the drive to see him again.
‘Not long. Exams start in a fortnight, then we’ll have a nice few weeks before the holidays to enjoy Hogwarts,’ James said. He was hoping that the Hogsmeade restrictions were going to have eased off by then; previous years had been allowed to spend their days in the town once exams and lessons ended. He rather liked the idea of waltzing off to spend his days perusing shop windows and returning to see the fourth years still stuck over their essays.
‘I’ll have to get a countdown going,’ said his mother. She gave him about the hundredth hug that day, and then held him at arms’ length, looking him up and down. ‘Oh, I’ve been so worried, Jimmy. It sounded like you were going through such a lot.’
‘I’m fine,’ he said, though suddenly his voice had gone a bit wobbly. He glanced behind him; Dad was examining one of the plants by the door. ‘Honest, Mum. I am glad you’re back, though, it’s been weird knowing how far away you were.’