hockey season - week 4
Not long after the run-in at the pizza shop came yet another game against the Slytherins. The Gryffindors sat in the locker room talking as they suited up, but James was silent.
"Potter!" Frank began, catching James zoning out and his knee bouncing. "We beat 'em last time, and in the scrimmage. We've got it!" the boys replied with agreeing yells.
"And I was going to beat them in that trash talk competition or whatever the hell that was," Kingsley added.
"And it's not just Coach Binns tonight like it's been the last few practices, we have Minnie coaching! So everything's good for this game." Sirius finished. James smiled at all of his teammates' reassurance. But that also added to the anxiety that they know about what he's going through, which he could not let happen. They're just looking out for him because of the bullies. That's it, James tried to remind himself.
As they all started on the ice, McGonagall stopped James. "Don't let them get to you. You're stronger than them. And you have a whole team of boys who won't let them get to you." James nodded and caught up to his team without another word.
The rink was alive with the sound of blades cutting through the ice and the sharp clap of sticks hitting pucks. James skated nervously along the boards, trying to stay invisible. He avoided eye contact with anyone, but specifically Snape, Barty, Evan, and Regulus. He knew they saw him, he knew they were already running through many different ways to get to him, but he just tried to ignore them as he came close to the blue line.
“Keep your head up, James!” Coach Binns barked. James nodded weakly, gripping his stick tighter.
The game was rough, even by their usual standards. One of Gryffindor's best players on the team, Frank, was skating hard against two of the rival players. James was nearby, originally attempting to get open for a pass but now he was trying to get away from Evan. James knew he was going to get checked, but he also knew he could avoid it at the last second. But neither James nor Frank had seen that Evan didn't stop when James got away safely, and he continued and ended up ramming into Frank, sending him sprawling onto the ice.
James helped him up quickly, it was his fault that he'd gotten hurt. If only he'd taken the check like a man instead of letting Frank do it. They were going to start going after his team, and it was his fault and-
"I'm okay, it's fine," Frank struggled out, grimacing as he clutched his arm. James took his other shoulder to help him stand, his heart dropping. He skated over to the entrance of the ice, but he already felt the weight of guilt pressing on his chest. He should have taken the check. He should have warned Frank.
The coaches blew their whistles, and Frank was helped off the ice, fighting tears. Frank was the strongest player he knew, seeing him like this was awful.
James felt his breath quicken, his chest tightening as his vision blurred. His mind spun in a relentless loop of blame. It’s my fault. I couldn't protect my team. If I hadn’t been so scared...
"You okay, Potter? You're not even the one who got hurt but you look like you're in pain," Remus noted, coming onto the ice to take over for Frank.
"Fine,"
The game continued, and James was at face off again, this time against Evan.
"Listen, you can hurt me and say whatever shit you want, but you leave Frank and the others out of it." James demanded.
"Yeah, definitely Jamsie," Evan muttered back.
Once James got the puck, instead of defending him, Evan went to Sirius. Sirius took the puck to the goal, but first, Evan came out and tripped him with his stick. Sirius stumbled forward, loosing hold on his stick and the puck.
Sirius was fine right after, but that didn't stop the internal panic inside James. It was his fault. He had to stop them. "Hey, James," McGonagall whispered, James snapped out of his thoughts for a moment. He realized he was panting slightly. "James, take a breath." James did so and followed his teammates back out on the ice.
-
"We have to get more aggressive, they're not going to stop. I know that they don't follow ethics the way that we've all been trained to, but that doesn't mean we can't beat them. We take extra precautions to keep ourselves safe, then we beat them. The Hogwarts team, we've got some games with them next week as well as on Gryffindor there's another against them. It's going to be a tough one, but it is nowhere out of our abilities." McGonagall explained and the team left to change.
"James," His coach started, but James couldn't have this conversation right now. He left pretending he hadn't heard her. The Gryffindors all returned to the locker room.
"How's the arm?" James asked, masking the anxiety in his voice as best he could as he sat beside Frank. He was still in uniform but had left after the injury to visit the school's hospital wing and now he returned in a sling.
"Six to eight weeks off, broke two bones," Frank replied with a sigh. He didn't seem mad necessarily, at least not at James, but the guilt remained as prominent as ever.
"That sucks, mate. I'm so sorry." James replied.
"S'ok, not your fault," And all James could do was turn away to pack his things. He felt like a liar.
“James, come here,” McGonagall called, her voice firm. James walked over, looking down. "Listen, James. I think you should talk to Slughorn... about your anxiety. I know it doesn't seem like a good thing, but he's noticed and he can help you with the other team's stuff too. He just doesn't realize what is going on."
"No, please McGonagall. I can manage it, no one has to know."
"... Fine. But your mother's worried. Don't let her be right. Don't let it get as bad as it did. We're all here for you. The team too, even if they don't know, they know you need them." James was instantly set off in a mood. He didn't want to need help and he definitely was not telling his coach about his mental health. Not Slughorn of all coaches
"It won't," he insisted.
"It-it feels like it already has," Minnie admitted. James shook his head violently, backing away as they continued to walk.
“No. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine!” Coach’s voice rose, though it wasn’t angry—it was desperate. “I’ve seen the way those boys treat you. It’s not right. You have to let us help you before someone else gets hurt.”
“No!” James shouted, his voice cracking. “I can handle it! If I tell, they’ll just make it worse!” The argument carried across the lot, primarily empty so James didn’t notice Regulus standing near the entrance, laughing slightly seeing his outburst. Regulus’ smirk faded as he caught James’ words.
I can handle it... they’ll just make it worse. The phrase hit him like a slap. Memories surged, unbidden.
Two years ago, he remembered the way James would shake before games, his breathing uneven as he pulled his jersey over his head. Regulus hadn’t truly understood it back then, but he remembered how James would brush off anyone who asked if he was okay, refusing to admit when the pressure was too much. But Reg had just figured that was James Potter, he shouldered more than he should have, but he always came out okay.
And before the argument, before the hatred, when he wasn't one of the causes, he tried to help. 'Leave me alone!' was all he'd gotten as answer but that wasn't what he wanted. It wasn't what he needed.
When it finally clicked that Regulus was the best person to help, likely the only person to help as well, he had jumped in and stopped it. After helping a few, he had suggested telling the others, if not the coaches, about what exactly he was going through. James had declined, very harshly, and that was the last time he helped him.
Regulus’ stomach churned. He didn’t like James—not now, anyway—but watching the scene unfold in front of him felt... wrong. For a fleeting moment, he felt the weight of his own actions. He hadn’t just stood by when the teasing continued—he’d joined in. It was unfair for James to get angry over the suggestion, but Regulus knew he'd gotten angry when James suggested telling someone about his mother. Then James stopped listening to his problems.
Were the two situations any different?
A car trunk slammed, James was spiraling as he pushed his hockey bag into the car, his voice breaking as he shouted at Coach McGonagall. Regulus didn't think anyone could just yell at a coach like that, a mother figure, even. “Just drop it, okay? It’s my problem!”
“No, James,” Coach said, voice softer now. “It’s not just your problem. You’re part of this team. And when you hurt, we all hurt. You’ve got to trust us enough to help you."
James looked away, his eyes stinging. Regulus turned back the bench beside the doorway, gripping his stick tightly. The memory of James’ trembling hands and shallow breathing wouldn’t leave his mind. For the first time, he wondered if his part in all of this had been more damaging than all of the others combined.