Chapter 1
The soccer field was alive with energy, the sharp scent of fresh-cut grass mixing with the crisp air as players moved with focused intensity. James, sweat dripping down his face, led the charge as the team pushed toward the opposing goal. His eyes were trained on the ball, but his thoughts were sharp, calculating the next move. Behind him, Sirius weaved in and out of defenders, Marlene and Mary close by, keeping pace with the fast-moving game.
Peter was on the far side of the field, his feet quick but his breath coming in short bursts. He’d been pushing himself for the past twenty minutes, trying to keep up with the faster players, but it was James who had always been the one to make the final move, the one everyone depended on when it came down to the wire. Peter just had to make sure he was in position.
"Sirius, over here!" Peter shouted, his voice raspy but clear.
Sirius glanced up, already starting to move toward Peter’s call. He knew exactly what Peter meant and, with a swift sidestep, watched the ball roll his way. In an instant, Sirius was in motion, pulling away from the defender closest to him. He was faster than anyone gave him credit for, and he could hear Marlene's voice in the distance, calling out instructions as she tried to support the midfield.
"Push it up!" Marlene yelled, her tone sharp and commanding as she broke away from her own defender.
Sirius nodded, focusing on the ball that was now just a few feet away. With a quick move, he struck it with the inside of his foot, sending it straight to James. The pass was perfect—a clean, controlled ball that would take no effort at all for James to handle.
James saw it coming, and without hesitation, he sprinted toward the ball. His breath was ragged, but the game was far from over. He could feel the pressure of the defenders closing in on him, but he was too far along to stop now. Marlene was making a move toward the far post, but there was no time for a cross. It was all up to him.
"James!" Mary shouted from the other side of the field, trying to move her opponent out of the way.
James kept his eyes on the ball, barely hearing the chaos around him. He steadied himself and, with one fluid motion, struck the ball hard toward the goal. The ball flew, soaring through the air like a streak of light. The goalkeeper lunged but missed, diving just a second too late.
For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze. The ball hit the back of the net with a satisfying thud, and the crowd of students on the sidelines erupted into cheers. James stood still for a second, catching his breath, before his teammates surged toward him in a rush.
The world seemed to blur as everyone ran to surround James, lifting him off the ground in a frenzy of laughter and shouting. The sound of their voices—loud and triumphant—filled the air, drowning out everything else. They were all grinning like mad, their bodies pressed close in the exhilaration of the moment.
James was caught in the middle, arms raised above his head in pure joy, and as he spun in the air, his teammates crowded around him, cheering as they slapped him on the back and hugged him. The energy was contagious. He could hear shouts from the sidelines, more teammates pouring in to join the celebration, their voices rising to a deafening pitch.
“We did it!” someone yelled.
“We’re going to Nationals!” another voice screamed, barely audible over the chaos.
A wave of excitement swept through the group, everyone feeling the rush of the moment. Sirius pulled James into a playful headlock. “That’s my captain!” he shouted, laughter bursting from him as he messed with James’ hair.
Peter was beside them, bouncing on his feet and grinning ear to ear. “Holy shit! I can’t believe you made the shot!” he called, his voice filled with disbelief and joy.
Marlene, flushed and out of breath, ran up beside James, her grin wide. “Nice kick, James! You were incredible!” she said, slapping him on the back with a laugh.
“Unbelievable,” Mary added, her voice still breathless but full of excitement. “We really won!”
James laughed, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. “Couldn’t have done it without all of you,” he said, his voice full of warmth, but his grin didn’t falter.
The group began to disperse slightly, but the energy stayed high, the cheers still filling the air.
The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, cutting through the excitement. “ And with that final goal, Hogwarts wins the match and earns their spot in Nationals! ”
The words were like a confirmation of what they had all felt deep down, and the crowd around them erupted even louder. The team roared with happiness, all of them rallying together again for one last cheer, jumping up and down in uncontrollable excitement.
“We’re going to Nationals, fuckers!” Sirius shouted into the air, uncontrollably laughing, his arms thrown wide in triumph.
Regulus
“Oh, Reggieeeeee,” Sirius sang, his voice loud and teasing as he leaned over the bleachers, a wide grin splitting his face. His clothes clung to his skin, streaked with dirt and sweat, but it didn’t seem to affect his mood in the slightest. Regulus could hear the energy in his brother’s voice, the kind of reckless enthusiasm that always seemed to be a part of Sirius.
“No,” Regulus muttered flatly, not bothering to look at him. He could already guess what Sirius was going to say, and he wasn’t in the mood for it.
Sirius didn’t let up. His voice dropped into a mock-serious tone, leaning in a little closer. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
Regulus didn’t bother responding at first. His eyes were fixed on the scene unfolding across the field, but his brother’s persistent presence was impossible to ignore. With a sigh, he finally spoke, his tone cool and distant. “You were going to ask if I wanted to come with you.”
Sirius pouted exaggeratedly, his face falling into a look of mock disbelief. “How did you know?”
Regulus didn’t flinch. He simply turned his head slightly to meet Sirius’ gaze, his eyes cool and indifferent. “Because you’re Sirius Black, and I know exactly how your mind works.”
“And for the record,” he added, voice lowering just a bit, “I’d rather die than get on one of those fucking planes.”
Sirius threw up his hands in exaggerated surrender, but the grin never left his face. “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun! Barty and Evan are going, and Dorcas and Pandora too. It’ll be a blast.”
Regulus let out a short, bitter laugh. “First off, Barty and Evan are on the fucking team, and Dorcas and Pandora are the managers. They’re basically chained to the damn plane.”
Sirius waved it off dismissively, though his attention had already drifted to the rest of the team, huddled together on the field, jerseys sticking to their sweaty bodies. They were laughing and shouting, caught up in the post-victory thrill. Regulus could hear their voices, the echoes of excitement in the air, but it felt distant to him—like they were all part of a world he didn’t belong to.
“It’s not like that,” Sirius said with a careless shrug, his voice still light and carefree. “Besides, you’ll be with me. We’ll make it fun. The team’s going, and you’ll regret it if you don’t.”
Regulus turned back to the scene across the field, his jaw tightening. His arms crossed defensively over his chest as he fought the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s called misery when you’re stuck with you, and the thought of it is enough to put me off the entire fucking idea.”
“It won’t be miserable, I promise.” Sirius’ voice was earnest, but the glint in his eyes made it clear that this wasn’t just about the trip. It was about dragging Regulus into his latest escapade, something that would end in chaos, no doubt.
Regulus wasn’t amused. “You’re impossible.”
“Please?” Sirius pressed, his voice shifting into something almost pleading, but with a layer of sarcasm still underneath. “I’m begging you, Reggie. Do it for the team. Do it for the memories.”
Regulus didn’t look at him. Instead, his gaze remained focused on the players, though his mind had already wandered. He could feel his brother’s persistence like an iron weight pressing on his shoulders. No escape from it. Sirius always found a way to drag him back in. His jaw clenched as he muttered to himself, “I’d rather be trapped in a room with Mother than get on that plane.”
Sirius, sensing the crack in his resolve, brightened immediately. “Exactly! And if you’re on the plane, you won’t have to deal with Mother.”
Regulus shot him a venomous glare, his eyes narrowing. “That’s what you take out of what I said?”
But Sirius wasn’t listening. He was already inching closer, knowing Regulus had been beaten. He leaned in as if to whisper a secret. “Come on. Don’t make me get Pandora to convince you.”
Regulus’ entire demeanor shifted. His eyebrows furrowed, and he clenched his fists in frustration. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Sirius was already on the move, inching toward the rest of the team, his voice raised as though calling for help. “Pandora! Reggie here—”
The mere mention of Pandora was enough to snap Regulus from his darkening thoughts. His hand shot out to grab Sirius by the arm, pulling him back with a grip that could have broken bone. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, low and threatening.
Sirius raised his hands in mock surrender, though the smirk never left his face. “Fine, fine,” Regulus muttered reluctantly, his voice barely audible. “I’ll go with you. Just shut up. I don’t want Pandora on my ass.”
Sirius’ eyes lit up with triumph. He wrapped his arms around his brother in a bear hug, nearly knocking the wind out of him. “That’s what I thought!” he crowed, voice full of childish glee.
Regulus groaned, trying to squirm free, but his brother’s hold was unyielding. “If that plane fucking crashes,” he muttered, almost as an afterthought, “I’m killing you.”
Sirius’ grin faltered for a moment, but then he laughed—a dark, low sound that carried an edge of humor. “If it crashes, I’d be doomed anyway,” he said, the words hanging in the air with a morbid sort of irony.
Regulus paused, his hands still resting on Sirius’ chest, as his brother’s words sunk in. He stared at Sirius for a long moment, feeling an odd mixture of frustration and affection. He couldn’t help but crack a small smirk. “God, you’re impossible.”
“Sure am,” Sirius said with a wink, his tone lifting again. “But that’s what’s so great about me.”
Across the field, the team was still celebrating, shouting in excitement, their voices rising in joy. Regulus watched them for a moment, his gaze lingering on the group of them, caught up in their victory. Everyone was smiling, swept up in their own world, but it all felt so far away from him. Like they were all on a different plane of existence.
He wasn’t one of them. He never had been.
His thoughts, bitter and distant, were interrupted when his eyes locked with James Potter.
The moment was brief, nothing more than a glance, but there was something there. Something left unsaid. Regulus’ chest tightened, his pulse quickening for just a heartbeat before he turned his gaze away, unwilling to acknowledge the discomfort settling in the pit of his stomach. James did the same, but the brief connection between them lingered like a weight in the air.
Regulus didn’t know why it made him feel so uneasy. But he knew one thing: he hated it.
“I’m going to hate this,” Regulus muttered under his breath, half to himself.
Sirius, ever oblivious, laughed again. “Yeah, probably,” he said, but his grin never wavered, a perfect picture of optimism.
Mary
Mary stood a few steps behind, watching the conversation unfold, feeling the air between the group grow thick with tension. She could sense the shift before it even happened—the way Marlene’s gaze hardened, the sharpness creeping into her tone. She glanced over at Emmeline, who was completely oblivious to the growing conflict, chatting away with a boy from the other team.
“Don’t you think she’s a liability?” Marlene muttered, her voice low but cutting, as she kept her eyes on Emmeline.
Mary felt a knot form in her stomach, a discomfort that made her shift on her feet. Marlene had always been intense, but this? This felt different. “I mean, she joined the team this year,” Mary began, her voice trying to remain calm, to not let the nerves slip through. “You need to give her some time to adjust. No one’s perfect right out of the gate.”
Marlene’s scoff cut through the cool air like a blade. Mary could feel the frustration rolling off her friend as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. Her jaw clenched, eyes narrowing. “She almost cost us the game on Friday, Mary. You can’t just brush that off. I told Coach she should’ve stayed on the bench. If she can’t help our team, then I don’t see why she should even be here.”
Mary’s breath hitched, and she shook her head, trying to calm herself, trying to make sense of the words Marlene was throwing out. “She’s new. I know she’s struggling, but she’s trying her best.”
“No, she’s not.” Marlene’s voice was sharp, cutting through her defense like a knife. “If she were trying, she wouldn’t be making the same mistakes over and over again. Every time she’s out there, I’m holding my breath, waiting for her to screw up.”
Mary bit her lip, looking between Emmeline and the others, feeling trapped in the middle. She couldn’t deny that Emmeline had struggled, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t trying. “Marlene, that’s not fair,” Mary said, her voice shaking slightly, but still holding firm. “You can’t just blame everything on her. We’re a team. If you’ve got a problem, talk to her directly. Don’t just—”
“She doesn’t listen, Mary,” Marlene interrupted, her voice rising, frustration lacing every word. “She doesn’t focus. She doesn’t care. She’s a weak link in the chain, and the chain’s only as strong as its weakest link.”
Mary could feel her own frustration bubbling to the surface. She wanted to say more, to make Marlene see reason, but before she could speak, Dorcas appeared, walking over with her usual confused expression, clearly unaware of the brewing argument.
“What are you guys talking about?” Dorcas asked, her voice soft but sharp with an undercurrent of curiosity, as if sensing the tension in the air.
Marlene didn’t waste a moment. “Emmeline. She’s a liability. She nearly cost us the game last Friday, and she’s not pulling her weight. We should’ve had someone else on the team.”
Mary could see the change in Dorcas’s face as she processed the words, her brow furrowing in disbelief. “What are you talking about? She’s been improving.”
“Improving?” Marlene laughed bitterly, and Mary’s heart sank. She didn’t like the edge in Marlene’s tone. “She’s been a disaster on the field. She’s been taking up space while the rest of us do the real work.”
“No,” Dorcas shot back, her voice sharp and steady as she took a step closer. “You don’t get to say that. She’s new. She’s trying. She doesn’t deserve you talking about her like that.”
Mary’s stomach twisted as she watched Dorcas take a stand. The fire in her eyes only intensified as she continued. “You want to win, don’t you, Marlene? Then let her try. Let her make mistakes. That’s how she’ll get better. Not by constantly being torn down.”
Marlene’s eyes blazed with anger, and she scoffed, taking a step forward, but Dorcas didn’t back down. “I’m just being realistic,” Marlene muttered, her tone dripping with bitterness. “You can’t sugarcoat everything. If we want to win nationals, we can’t carry dead weight.”
“Dead weight?” Dorcas’s voice dropped to an icy tone. “You’re not her coach, Marlene. You’re not her fucking judge. You don’t get to decide who belongs here based on your own fucking standards.”
The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, Mary wondered if the whole field had gone silent, as though holding its breath. Marlene’s jaw clenched, her fists tightening, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she turned away, as if trying to regain some composure.
“You don’t get it,” Marlene muttered under her breath, and there was a coldness in her voice that made Mary’s heart drop.
“Actually, I do,” Dorcas replied quickly, her tone hardening. “What I don’t get is how you think it’s okay to treat someone like that. We’re supposed to be a team. We lift each other up. Not tear each other down.”
The silence that followed was thick, and Mary felt the weight of the situation pressing down on her. Marlene’s eyes flicked between Dorcas and her, and for a moment, there was a heaviness that made it hard to breathe. She could see it—Marlene’s frustration, her unwillingness to listen, and it made Mary feel small in a way she couldn’t explain.
But then Dorcas spoke again, her voice low but unwavering. “You better not do anything,” she warned, her eyes burning with the remnants of anger.
Marlene didn’t flinch, but her lips curved into a dangerous smile, the words slipping from her mouth with a cold edge. “We’ll see.”
And with that, Marlene turned, walking away without another word, her steps purposeful. The silence lingered, thick and heavy in the air as Mary watched her disappear into the crowd, her mind racing with questions.
Finally, Dorcas let out a harsh laugh, disbelief still hanging on her face as she stood frozen. “She’s going too far,” she muttered under her breath.
Mary’s eyes remained on the spot where Marlene had just been, her chest tightening with a mix of worry and uncertainty. “Do you think she’ll actually do something?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dorcas’s eyes flashed with something sharp, the remnants of her anger still there. “Knowing her?” she said, her voice hard with conviction. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Emmeline
The field buzzed with energy, the sound of cleats pounding against the grass, the ball bouncing and being kicked with a steady rhythm. Emmeline’s heart raced as she positioned herself to receive a pass, her focus wavering just slightly as the weight of the upcoming nationals pressed down on her. She had to prove herself, to show everyone she belonged here.
Marlene was always near her, always watching, always waiting for the chance to remind her of her shortcomings. Every time Emmeline got the ball, Marlene was there, like a shadow, anticipating her next move, stealing the ball with ease.
“Come on, Emmeline!” Sirius’s voice rang out from the sideline, his grin barely visible beneath the way his hair fell into his eyes. He was perched with James, their usual banter filling the air as they watched the drill, already done with theirs. “If you can’t outrun Marlene, maybe you should start doing laps instead!”
“Shut up, Padfoot!” James shot back, laughing as he took a break from throwing a ball around with the other guys. “She’s trying! Give her a break.”
But even with James’ words, Emmeline could feel the weight of the expectation. She was still the new one, the one who hadn’t earned her place yet. Marlene was a constant reminder of that, always sharp, always perfect in every movement.
Frank, their coach, stood off to the side, arms crossed over his chest, watching the practice with his sharp eyes. He had been tough on them all season, but today, the pressure was especially high. “You’ve got four days till nationals, people!” Frank barked, his voice cutting through the chatter. “I don’t care if you’re tired, I don’t care if you’re struggling. You get your act together now, or you’re not stepping foot on that plane.”
Marlene's eyes met Frank’s for a moment, and Emmeline felt herself stiffen. She knew what that look meant—Marlene was about to turn up the intensity. And for Emmeline, that always meant disaster.
As the drill continued, Marlene came at her again, her movements swift and calculated, forcing Emmeline to chase after the ball. It was like a game of cat and mouse, and Emmeline was always the mouse, always running, always falling short.
“You need to anticipate my moves, Vance,” Marlene’s voice cut through, harsh and biting. “You’re too slow. You’ll never make it to nationals at this rate.”
Emmeline’s breath caught in her throat, her frustration mounting. She couldn’t seem to shake Marlene off, no matter how hard she tried. Every time she thought she had the ball, Marlene was there, effortlessly snatching it away, making her look like an amateur.
“I’m trying!” Emmeline snapped back, the words barely leaving her mouth before the ball was once again taken from her. She gritted her teeth, feeling her blood pressure rise. “I’m doing my best!”
“Your best isn’t enough,” Marlene shot back coldly, her voice filled with contempt. “Maybe you should just give up now before you embarrass yourself further.”
Emmeline’s hands balled into fists at her sides. It was like she couldn’t win. Marlene’s taunting words echoed in her mind, pushing her deeper into the spiral of self-doubt. She didn’t want to let anyone down. She didn’t want to be the weak link. She couldn’t.
In the background, Sirius laughed loudly, his voice laced with sarcasm. “At this rate, Vance is going to need a miracle if we want her to play next week.” His words stung, but he said it with that usual grin that made it hard to tell if he was joking or not.
“Sirius, cut it out,” Lily, one of the team managers, called out sharply from beside Frank. “Your comments are completely unnecessary.”
Sirius shrugged nonchalantly, “She better get it together before nationals, that’s all I’m saying. I’m not gonna carry her.”
The conversation wasn’t lost on Emmeline, and it felt like a weight pressing down on her chest, the judgment hanging in the air.
“Focus, Emmeline!” Frank shouted again, his voice turning more insistent, more impatient. He was pacing now, his eyes moving quickly between the players, and Emmeline could feel his gaze. “You’re supposed to support this team. If you can’t keep up, then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”
Emmeline’s stomach churned. The ball was back in play, and she had to make a move. She had to prove herself. But the moment she set her eyes on the ball, Marlene was right there, as if she had read her mind. Emmeline barely had a chance to react before Marlene knocked the ball away with a swift and effortless motion.
“You’re too predictable,” Marlene sneered, her voice low but barbaric. “You’ve got nothing. You’re not good enough.”
Something inside Emmeline snapped. She wasn’t going to take it anymore. She wasn’t going to let Marlene tear her down.
The next time the ball came to her, Emmeline planted her feet, preparing herself to fight for it. She wasn’t going to let Marlene steal it again. She had to do something, anything to show she could keep up.
But the moment she lunged forward, ready to make a play, Marlene was quicker, faster—too fast. Before Emmeline could even react, Marlene swept her legs out from under her with a calculated move, sending her crashing to the ground.
Pain shot through Emmeline’s body as she hit the turf, a sickening thud echoing in the air. It was the worst fall she’d taken all season, and as she tried to push herself up, something wasn’t right. She felt something sharp, something wrong —and then, she saw it.
Her leg—twisted unnaturally at an angle, the bone protruding through the skin. The blood was already pooling around it, seeping into the grass.
For a moment, there was silence, the field frozen, every eye locked on her. Emmeline’s breath came in quick, shallow gasps, her body cold with shock. It was like time had stopped, the world spinning in a blur as her mind tried to catch up to what had just happened.
Then, chaos erupted.
“ Emmeline! ” Lily screamed, rushing to her side, her hands trembling as she knelt down beside her. “Oh my God, Emmeline, just stay with me, okay? We’re getting help, we’re getting help.”
“Oh shit,” She heard someone—Peter maybe?—yelling from the side of the field.
Her vision blurred again, the edges of everything softening, and Emmeline’s head grew heavy. She tried to speak, to reassure Lily, but no words came. The world around her felt distant, and she felt herself sinking, the pain in her leg numbing her body. It wasn’t even the pain that overwhelmed her—it was the exhaustion, the feeling of being out of control. Her body felt too weak, too tired to stay conscious.
The last thing she heard was the frantic sound of Lily yelling, but even that faded into the background as she slipped further into the darkness, her body losing the fight to stay awake.
Dorcas
The fire at the party crackled in the distance, the orange and red flames casting shadows over the crowd gathered around the bonfire. Music pounded from a speaker, but it didn’t drown out the tension in the air. Dorcas could feel it pressing down on her, the unease that had been building all day, the discomfort that came from knowing things weren’t right. The laughter around her felt hollow, and the noise seemed to get louder the longer she stayed there.
She kept her distance from the others, standing on the edge of the crowd, watching people dance and drink, trying to avoid the chaos. She couldn’t shake the image of Emmeline’s leg snapping, the sickening crack, and the way the others had treated it as if it was just another mistake, just another person not measuring up.
Dorcas’ eyes drifted over the party, the scene around her a blur of motion and noise, but it all felt distant, as if she were watching a movie instead of living in the moment. She saw Sirius and Remus over by the fire, their backs against a fallen log, laughing and passing around a bottle of something strong. James and Peter were nearby, both of them already looking a little too tipsy, their voices loud as they jokingly argued over something, probably soccer. Their carefree bickering only made the tension in Dorcas’ chest tighten more.
She turned her head, trying to focus on anything other than the ache in her gut. Her gaze landed on Barty and Evan, both of them leaning against a nearby tree, laughing way too loudly at some joke only they found funny. The scene was so normal—too normal. The kind of scene that had always been a part of these parties, the same kind of scene Dorcas had once been a part of without a second thought. But now? It felt wrong, like a sharp contrast to the weight of the reality she couldn’t escape.
Her eyes flicked to Marlene, who was talking to Mary a few feet away. They were speaking in low voices, their heads bent together, but Dorcas could see Marlene’s tense posture and the way Mary was trying to keep things light, trying to make her laugh. The smile on Marlene’s face was forced, and the frustration in her body language was obvious. Dorcas felt an irrational wave of anger rise within her as she watched.
She started walking over, her footsteps deliberate as she approached them. When she was close enough, she couldn’t keep the words from spilling out.
“Seriously, Marlene?” Dorcas snapped, her voice sharp. “You really think it’s okay to treat someone like that, to fucking cripple someone?”
Marlene turned toward her, her expression quickly shifting from frustration to defensiveness. “What do you want, Dorcas? You think I wanted to hurt her?” she shot back, her tone tight but not outright hostile. “No. But I don’t regret what happened.”
The words hit Dorcas like a slap. “You don’t regret it?” she asked. “Marlene, you broke her leg. She’s hurt. You really don’t feel bad about that?”
Marlene shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she took a step toward Dorcas. “I didn’t want to hurt her. But she was a liability, and you know it. If I hadn’t pushed her, if I hadn’t made her face the consequences of her actions, it would have dragged us all down. And I’m not going to apologize for that.”
Pandora, who appeared out of nowhere, took a step forward, her calm demeanor slowly starting to crack. “Marlene, that’s not how this works,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, though there was a hint of frustration in it. “You don’t just push someone until they break. We’re a team. We have to lift each other up, not tear each other down.”
Marlene’s lips curled into a small, frustrated smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not tearing anyone down. I’m pushing her to be better, just like the rest of us had to be pushed.”
Pandora’s hands clenched at her sides, her patience starting to thin. “You think breaking her leg is ‘pushing her to be better’?” she asked, her voice rising now. “You’re not helping anyone, Marlene. You’re just making things worse.”
“Maybe you don’t get it, Pandora,” Marlene shot back, her voice now matching Pandora’s in volume. “Not everyone can be coddled. We have a goal here, and sometimes you have to be tough to reach it.”
Mary, who had been standing silently for a moment, finally spoke up, her voice hesitant at first. “Marlene, I get that you’re frustrated,” she began, “but breaking Emmeline wasn’t the way to handle it. She’s trying. She’s new. We all know that.”
Marlene glanced at her, her expression softening just slightly, though her stance was still defensive. “I know she’s trying, but sometimes trying isn’t enough. I did what needed to be done.”
Dorcas shook her head, her frustration boiling over. “Is that what you’ll keep telling yourself?” she asked, her voice thick with disbelief. “Is that the kind of leader you want to be?”
Marlene didn’t respond immediately, her eyes flicking from Dorcas to the others, then back again. She looked conflicted, but her jaw tightened as she stood her ground. “I didn’t want it to go that far, but I’m not apologizing for doing what I thought was right.”
Pandora threw her hands up in exasperation. “You’re unbelievable, Marlene! You think that justifies it? Because you don’t want to take responsibility for what happened?”
“I’m taking responsibility!” Marlene snapped, her voice growing louder now. “Emmeline needed to learn. We all do.”
The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, the tension growing thicker by the second. Pandora’s eyes flared with anger, and her fists clenched. “You really don’t see how messed up that is, do you?”
Dorcas’s pulse pounded in her ears, her whole body thrumming with frustration. The firelight flickered against Marlene’s face, casting sharp shadows that only made her look more infuriating.
“You’re not taking responsibility—you’re making excuses!” Dorcas snapped, stepping forward, her hands clenched. “You hurt her, Marlene! And for what? To prove a point?”
Marlene scoffed, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe this conversation was even happening. “You’re acting like I did it on purpose.”
Dorcas let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “You expect me to believe you didn’t? You were on her all practice! Taking the ball, pushing her, getting in her head—what did you think was going to happen?”
Marlene’s jaw tightened, but she held her ground. “I was pushing her. Just like Frank pushes us. Just like we’ve been pushed for the last three fucking years.”
Pandora cut in, her voice sharper than Dorcas had ever heard it. “You think breaking her leg is just part of the process? Are you listening to yourself?”
Marlene exhaled, tilting her head back like she was trying to gather patience. “You don’t understand,” she muttered.
Dorcas scoffed. “No, I do understand, Marlene. I understand that you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
Marlene’s gaze snapped back to her, something dangerous flashing behind her eyes. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
Dorcas took another step closer, her anger burning too hot, too fast. “You don’t get to make this about me—”
Before she could say anything else, Mary shoved herself between them, pressing a hand to Dorcas’s shoulder to hold her back. “Enough,” she said sharply. “Both of you.”
Dorcas yanked her arm away. “Stay out of this, Mary.”
“No,” Mary snapped, turning to glare at her. “I won’t, because you’re both being fucking stupid.”
Dorcas’s frustration rose. “How the hell are you defending her right now?”
Mary sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m not defending her. I’m saying this isn’t helping.”
Marlene let out a sharp breath, muttering, “For once, someone’s actually making sense.”
Dorcas turned on her instantly. “Oh, shut the hell up, Marlene—”
“Shit, they’re really about to throw hands,” someone muttered from nearby.
Dorcas barely noticed the voices in the crowd at first, too focused on Marlene, on the way she stood there with that infuriating calm, like she hadn’t just broken someone’s leg and brushed it off like nothing. But the murmurs started spreading, growing louder.
“Catfight incoming,” some guy jeered.
Another voice—Barty, she realized—called out, “Ten bucks on Dorcas.”
Dorcas could feel the weight of the eyes turning toward them, could hear the way the party had begun to shift, their argument becoming the center of attention.
Then—
“All of you! Come with me! Now.”
Lily’s voice cut through the noise like a blade.
Dorcas turned to see her standing just beyond the fire, arms crossed, her expression cold and unrelenting.
Pandora exhaled sharply, muttering something under her breath, but didn’t argue. Dorcas, still fuming, stayed silent as she followed. Marlene didn’t say a word either, though Dorcas could feel her presence beside her..
The murmurs of the crowd followed them as they walked away, but Dorcas barely heard them over the pounding of her own anger.
Lily led them away from the bonfire, her stride sharp and purposeful. The glow of the fire flickered against her back as she came to a stop near the edge of the field, far enough that the noise of the party was just a hum behind them. She turned on her heel, arms still crossed, eyes blazing.
Lily sighed, rubbing a hand over her forehead like she was fighting off a migraine. “Alright,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Since you all want to act like brats, we’re gonna do this the old-fashioned way.”
Dorcas narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”
Lily’s unimpressed gaze swept over them. “You’re each gonna say something nice about each other.”
A thick, stunned silence.
Then—
Marlene snorted. Pandora let out a short, incredulous laugh. Even Mary shook her head.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dorcas muttered.
“Oh, I’m not,” Lily said, her voice deadly serious. “And if you don’t, I will personally make sure Frank hears about all of this tomorrow. And you do not want to hear what he’ll have to say.”
Dorcas winced. Frank wasn’t exactly the yelling type, but his disappointment had a way of hitting harder than anything else. She didn’t need him breathing down her neck about teamwork and cohesion when she already felt like she was suffocating.
Lily crossed her arms tighter. “So? Who’s going first?”
Silence.
No one moved.
Dorcas could feel the tension sitting in the air, thick and unmoving. She sure as hell didn’t want to go first. She didn’t even want to be doing this. What was the point? It wasn’t going to change anything. Marlene would still be Marlene. The crack of Emmeline’s leg wouldn’t just disappear because they all forced out some half-hearted compliments.
Lily let out a sharp sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was regretting every life choice that had led her to this moment. “Alright,” she said, straightening up. “Since you’re all so incapable of basic human decency, I’ll go first. Maybe then you’ll get the hint.”
Dorcas crossed her arms, still irritated, but she stayed quiet.
Lily looked at Marlene first. “Marlene, you’re one of the most determined people I’ve ever met. When you set your mind to something, nothing can stop you.”
Marlene’s jaw tensed, like she didn’t know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult. She didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod.
Lily turned to Pandora. “Pandora, you always speak your mind. You’re not afraid to stand up for what’s right, and whether or not we always agree, I respect that about you.”
Pandora’s expression softened slightly. She looked away, shifting her weight, an embarrassing flush creeping up her face.
Lily glanced at Mary next. “Mary, you’re the glue that holds this team together. Even when things are falling apart, you’re always trying to keep us from completely losing it.”
Mary gave her a small, lopsided smile. “Well, someone’s got to.”
Lily rolled her eyes before turning to Dorcas. “Dorcas, you push people. You make them better, even when they don’t want to hear it. And, as annoying as that is sometimes, it’s why we need you.”
Dorcas blinked. She hadn’t expected that. It wasn’t like Lily to be so direct about things like this—at least, not in a way that wasn’t pure reprimanding. She swallowed, nodding stiffly, unsure of how to respond.
Lily’s gaze swept over the group again. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Dorcas wasn’t sure she agreed. It had felt weird , forced even, but there was something in the air that had shifted, something less sharp, less raw.
Still, no one rushed to speak.
Lily sighed, crossing her arms again. “Alright, now it’s your turn. And no half-assed jokes.”
The group hesitated, glancing at one another. Finally, after an uncomfortably long silence, Marlene exhaled and muttered, “Fine.” She glanced at Dorcas. “You’re a good player. Tough. I respect that.”
Dorcas hesitated, then shrugged. “Yeah, well… you’re not bad yourself.”
Marlene raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it.
Pandora sighed, glancing at Mary. “You’re the only reason I haven’t killed any of them yet.”
Mary grinned. “I’ll take it.”
Dorcas shifted, feeling awkward. Finally, she muttered, “Pandora, you’re smart. And you actually give a shit, which is more than I can say for most people.”
Pandora looked at her for a second, then nodded. “Thanks.”
Lily scanned the group, nodding in satisfaction. “That’s better.”
The fire crackled in the distance, filling the silence that settled between them. No one moved right away, like they were waiting for something—some final word, some confirmation that this ridiculous exercise had actually meant something.
Dorcas kicked at the dirt, glancing at Marlene, who looked just as tense as she felt. Pandora still had her arms crossed, her jaw tight, and Mary had that unreadable look she always got when she was caught between people she cared about.
Lily exhaled, rubbing a hand over her face. “Alright. That’s enough for tonight. Just… try not to kill each other before nationals, yeah?”
There were a few small nods, but no one really responded.
Dorcas didn’t know what else to say. The weight in her chest wasn’t gone, not completely, but something had shifted, even if just a little. The fight still lingered, still clung to the air, but the sharpest edges had dulled.
“Whatever,” Marlene muttered, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
Dorcas watched her go, something bitter twisting in her gut.
Pandora scoffed, shaking her head. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, before stalking off in the opposite direction.
Dorcas sighed, exchanging a glance with Mary, who gave her a small, tired smile before following after Pandora.
Lily stayed back a moment longer, eyeing Dorcas carefully. “Get some sleep,” she said. “You’re gonna need it.”
Dorcas rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
As Lily walked away, the party carried on around her—music thumping, voices rising in laughter, the fire still burning bright. It was like nothing had happened. Like everything was the same.
But Dorcas knew better.
Nothing about this was the same.
Remus
Remus Lupin wasn’t on the soccer team. He wasn’t even sure how he’d ended up on this trip. Regulus had an excuse—family ties and all—but Remus? He had no clue what the hell he was doing on this plane.
James had brushed off his concerns when he first brought it up, grinning like it was the easiest thing in the world. “You’re coming because I said so,” he’d said, which wasn’t much of an answer but apparently was enough for James Potter.
And, of course, his dad had paid for a private flight. Because of course he had.
Remus sat by the window, staring out at the tarmac while the rest of the team got settled. The plane still hadn’t taken off, but people were already acting like it was mid-flight.
“They’re already getting restless,” Sirius muttered, dropping into the seat beside him with a dramatic sigh. He stretched his legs out as much as he could, knocking his knee against Remus’s. “Not even in the air yet and I already feel a headache coming on.”
Up ahead, James and Barty were loudly trying to convince Frank to let them drink before takeoff.
“Come on, Coach,” Barty said, shaking a bottle of whiskey he’d somehow smuggled on. “One drink, for morale.”
Frank, who already looked exhausted, pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re about to be on an international flight, and you want to be drunk?”
James grinned. “We’re about to be on an international flight, and you don’t ?”
Frank groaned. “No. No drinks. I don’t want any of you acting up. If I catch any of you trying to get drunk on this flight, I swear to God, you’ll be running drills the second we land.”
Sirius turned toward Remus, grinning. “Think that applies to us?”
Frank glanced back at them. “Yes, Black, it applies to you.”
Sirius groaned. “This is oppression.”
Remus smirked. “Not really. Oppression would be if he made you drink.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, but before he could come up with a witty retort, a commotion near the back of the plane caught their attention.
Regulus was sitting behind Evan and Barty, looking just about as thrilled as he always did in social situations. Across from them, Snape, Mulciber, and Avery had claimed their own section, Snape looking particularly miserable.
Remus nudged Sirius. “Snape’s only here because of Lily, huh?”
Sirius followed his gaze, lips curling. “Obviously. He’d rather throw himself off this plane than voluntarily be in the same space as us.”
And honestly? That sounded about right. Snape had only joined the team to be closer to Lily in hopes of mending their broken friendship.
Up ahead, Lily and Mary were in their seats, deep in conversation. Pandora sat a row behind them, reading something in her book, while Dorcas had her arms crossed, staring out the window like she wished she was anywhere else.
Marlene sat alone, her posture stiff, her arms crossed. She hadn’t said much since last night, since the fight. The tension still hung heavy between her, Pandora, and Dorcas—hell, probably half the team.
Remus glanced at Sirius. “Think they’ll ever get over it?”
Sirius sighed dramatically. “Doubt it. This team holds grudges like it’s their full-time job.”
Just then, a crackling noise came through the intercom. The pilot’s voice rang out, informing them they’d be taking off soon.
Remus glanced out the window one last time. The engines hummed to life, and the plane slowly began to move down the runway. James and Peter, sitting a few rows up, were already cheering, completely ignoring the fact that they hadn't even left the ground yet.
"Yes! We’re actually doing this!" Peter whooped, giving James a high-five.
James laughed, looking back at Remus and Sirius. "You two better hold on, we're going to be flying high now!" he called over, before turning to Peter, "Right, Wormy? This is the start of the ultimate team trip!"
Sirius chuckled but didn’t reply, sinking back in his seat with a sigh. “Can’t wait to nap,” he muttered, stretching out his legs. Remus nodded in agreement, feeling the exhaustion of the last few days starting to weigh on him.
The plane picked up speed, and Remus settled into his seat, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the low hum of the engines lull him into a daze, and before long, he was asleep.
Hours passed.
Remus Lupin wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep. The steady hum of the engines had lulled him into a deep, almost dreamless state, but as he woke, something felt wrong. It was an oppressive, heavy feeling in the air, a sense that something was terribly out of place. His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, everything seemed normal—except it didn’t. He could hear the usual sounds of the plane, but they were different now, more urgent, more frantic. The low buzz of the engines was somehow wrong, like a ticking clock counting down.
His heart skipped a beat as his eyes darted around the cabin, and he froze, trying to process what he was seeing. James and Peter were out of their seats, their faces ghostly pale. People were shouting, but it wasn’t excitement anymore—this was pure terror. The collective panic hit him like a wave, and his stomach twisted into knots.
“What the hell’s going on?” Remus muttered, his voice barely audible over the symphony around him.
Suddenly, the plane jerked violently, throwing everyone forward. Remus’s stomach lurched, his body crashing against his seatbelt as the world tilted sharply to the right. There were screams—loud screams of fear and confusion, echoing through the cabin. The sound of metal creaking and groaning filled the air, almost like the plane was being torn apart.
Remus tried to steady himself, his eyes scanning the chaos. Frank was already on his feet, sprinting toward the cockpit, his face set in panic. “Get back! Get back to your seats!” he shouted, but the words were barely audible over the cries of the others. Everyone was on edge, scrambling for safety, pulling at the oxygen masks that had dropped from the ceiling.
Then came the noise—the deafening screech of metal twisting, the plane groaning under pressure, and a terrifying lurch that sent everyone stumbling.
“What the hell—?” Remus repeated, his voice trembling this time.
The air around him was thick with panic. People were yelling, crying, praying, some reaching for their phones, some holding onto anything they could, their faces wide with fear. Barty was screaming, clutching the back of his seat, while Regulus’s face was drained of all color. Beside him, Sirius had gone quiet, his usual sarcasm replaced with a tense, hard expression.
“We’re going down!” someone screamed. “Oh my God, we’re going down!”
And then came the sound of the engines sputtering, a low, grinding noise that cut through the panic. Remus’s heart rate spiked. He wanted to yell, to ask if anyone knew what was going on, but his throat had gone dry. His head was spinning, and the world outside the window was a blur—clouds mixed with the darkening sky, spinning in a dizzying whirlwind.
Another violent jolt hit, harder this time, and the plane began to tilt more sharply. The floor beneath Remus’s feet shifted, and he felt himself sliding toward the aisle. People were falling into the aisles, screaming as the plane dipped even more. His seatbelt was the only thing keeping him from flying forward.
“Holy shit!” Sirius shouted, his voice sharp and panicked for the first time in a long while. He reached for Remus’s arm, pulling him closer, his hands gripping tight as another terrifying scream echoed from somewhere behind them.
Through the chaos, Remus heard someone else scream, but it wasn’t just one voice now—it was a chorus of terror, a wave of hysteria filling the cabin. His pulse was racing, every nerve on high alert, but his mind couldn’t keep up. He couldn’t make sense of what was happening. His body was moving on instinct, pressing against the seat, trying to hold on as the plane violently shook.
The oxygen masks swayed above them, hanging uselessly, some of them barely in reach as people scrambled to grab them. Remus glanced toward the front of the plane, where Frank was still trying to push through the chaos, shouting something he couldn’t hear over the noise. A few seats away, James was frantically trying to help Peter, who looked frozen in terror, his face twisted in fear.
And then, a horrible, sickening sound—the kind of sound that made Remus’s blood run cold. The engines whined in a desperate pitch, and the plane lurched downward again, faster this time, tilting at a horrific angle.
It was happening. The plane was going down.
Remus’s chest tightened, and his breathing quickened as the plane shook even harder, the noise outside growing louder. The smell of burning metal filled the air, choking him as he gasped for breath.
He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on, how much longer the plane would stay in the air before the inevitable happened.
And then, there was nothing but the feeling of falling.
The world tilted sharply, and the floor disappeared beneath him. Remus’s stomach dropped as the sounds of the screaming, the crashing, the chaos all mixed together in a final, horrific symphony of terror.
Then there was nothing but blackness.