ink - sirius black

angels and breakups

tw: violence

May 11, 1979
5:57 pm
Quidditch Pitch

The cheers were deafening, even over the sounds of the violent sky. They hit the player's ears the second they stepped out onto the field as if the crowd was only inches away, immediately drenched to the bone even though they hadn't gotten a hair off the ground yet.

They all took deep breathes in, yanking their pads tighter, resting their brooms over their shoulder in a way that felt like the way a knight would put on their battle armor and brandish their sword before the enemy.

Anneliese's hair that had been tightly braided back by Sirius was already coming loose, sharp strands sticking to her face with the strong current of the wind. She shivered, all the nerves in her body suddenly seeming a dozen times more sensitive than usual.

Callaway's boots squelched through the muddy grass as she walked to the center of the pitch with the rest of her team, splattering mud onto her covered shins.

Unlike the Slytherins, the Gryffindors were walking in a straight horizontal line towards Hooch, no one showing aggressive dominance and no player less valuable than the other.

Anneliese wasn't really listening to Hooch's beginning of the game speech or paying attention as she firmly shook the other Seeker's hand, more just trying to tune in with the weather, trying to figure out how she was supposed to find the snitch in this mess of water and energy.

She felt a tap on her shoulder, James holding out his hand to her.

Callaway quickly slid their palms together, hooked two fingers, pulled all fingers in closer, pressed two against his forearm, twisted their wrists, switched the hooked fingers to their thumbs, and then pulled away from one another effortlessly.

It was the Gryffindor team handshake, one that no one else was permitted to know and was done to emphasize their bond and wish the other members good luck for what was to come.

The complex motion had been invented by Jason and Jayden at four am in Hogsmeade after they beat Ravenclaw and all of them besides Anneliese were remarkably drunk, and the tradition had stuck from there.

The cheers increased as Hooch's whistle pierced through the loud thunder and even louder cheers, as the four balls were released into the air and as the anticipation built.

And then the players were off.

Sirius squinted his eyes as he stared out into the rain, the drops hitting his lashes and building there. He wiped them off with the back of his hand, then leaned into Leo, having to shout to be heard over the sounds of the game.

"WHERE THE HELL DID A GO?" he yelled, looking thoroughly across the whole pitch and not seeing a single number seven.

"I THINK SHE WENT UP!" Leo shouted back, his neck tilted back so he could look more clearly up to the clouds above them. "LIKE UP ABOVE WHERE WE CAN SEE- THIS IS USELESS. DOES ANYONE HAVE BINOCULARS?"

A third year handed some to Anderson, who immediately began looking.

But his efforts were useless, because Anneliese was far beyond where anyone could see. The water that had gathered on her clothes was starting to freeze and frost over, her breath starting to become short from how high up she was.

Yet to Callaway, nothing could be more worth it.

Up here, all the way above the clouds, not a single drop of rain was hitting her. She could see just how dark the storm was, a canvas of swirling dark grey and black masses below her as the sky remained tonelessly navy.