Showtime
If I could see through walls,
I could see you faking
If you could see my thoughts,
you would see our faces
The music blared through his headphones, filling his head with the beat and melody of the song.
James sat on the floor propped up against his bed, eyes closed and head thrown back. He couldn’t see nor hear his roommate, but he was positive that if he turned off the noise cancelling, the soft beat of Frank Ocean would be drowned in something ABBA.
No matter what I did
my waves wouldn’t dip back then
Everything sucked back then
We were friends
His morning routine was likely the most important part of any game day. It was when he gathered himself, got ready for whatever the match might throw at him. It wasn’t superstitious, per se, but it was just a fact that he didn’t play as well without some R&B before getting out on the ice.
Sirius, of course, was the least superstitious person in quite possibly the entire hockey world. His version of getting ready consisted of oatmeal while dancing around to some upbeat music. Of course, that worked for him. He just needed to get his energy up, get ready to spread that energy to the rest of the team. It was chaotic, but so was his playing style. Sirius wasn’t tactical or calculated with it, he just did whatever he felt like in whatever moment. He was just lucky that he had a good hunch for what to do.
James could not rely on impulses in the same way, being the alternate captain, right after Frank. He needed to know what game the other team was playing. He needed to make plans and change them in a heartbeat, and also get Frank and the rest of the team on board. James could not let his decisions be anything other than thought through and calculated, his whole team was counting on it.
What kind of love would take this long?
What kind of love don’t make you old?
He tried focusing on the changed music, refusing to give into the thoughts about his responsibilities. Stress like this was the exact reason he always had these sessions before a game. He needed to think about different plays, and what was the most important of all: the other team.
Ravenclaw was a tough one, and one that they desperately needed to win against. Besides Slytherin, they were their rivals, someone they had issues beating. Last year, Ravenclaw had taken the win from them with their shiny new captain. He wasn’t older than James, but he was already the fucking captain.
James remembered how he had looked down upon him, how he’d kept calling him Peters jr at their faceoff. Sirius actually hated him after a dirty hit that had sent him up against the floorboards and right into the ice. His shoulder acted up for weeks after that. It was one of the few times that James had let his hot head affect his playing. That was likely the reason they list, because James was too busy going for checks and hits rather than focusing on the actual play. That was not a mistake he planned on repeating.
Drove for hours just to see your face
We should’ve talked just if just to clear the space
The thing was, James hadn’t been the only one throwing that game last year. The whole team had been more than a little pissed off. They liked to play it barely legal, working you up so that you were the ones getting penalties. He would need to keep his team cool headed and calm. The Ravenclaws techniques only worked if they let their fuses go off.
He knew for a fact that he would have to keep Sirius busy on the ice, though he wasn’t stupid. There was no chance in hell that Sirius was going to walk off that ice without at least one fight, but maybe he could make sure he didn’t go and get himself a whole game misconduct. They needed him out there.
He’d have to discuss it with both Coach and Frank, but Evan actually seemed to be one of their best shots for this game. Firstly, he was a pretty calm guy. Janes hadn’t seen him in one fight, and he didn’t do much to agitate the other players. Secondly, he hadn’t been on the ice the previous year. He was not only a freshman, but also put on break by Pomfrey, so he didn’t have any stupid grudges he felt the dire need to take out on the ice. Also, he was just getting better and better, and James would love to have him more out on the ice.
I said a lot of stupid stuff
I think that I was growing up
Of course, Pipes and Johnny were going to be problems, but when were they not? Trying to tell them not to hit someone was like telling that to a severely undiagnosed adhd kid to sit quietly and pay attention. They did not have the biology for that. No, they would be out there giving the Ravenclaws’ their own asses on pretty little silver platters, and they were going to do it frequently. The thought of the amount of time they would spend shorthanded.
They were probably the two that got the most riled up during last year’s failure. Every team had a universal rule of retaliation: you hit the goalie, you hit the ice. Ravenclaw hadn’t actually hit LeBlanc, but they had made no secret that they were toying with him. Of course, this infuriated the two defensemen, and they spent more time in that penalty box than out on the ice.
What kind of love don’t hurt so bad?
What kind of love don’t feel this way?
What kind of love would make…
He jerked his head up at the feeling of a drop splashing over his nose. For the first half second he worried that the roof might be leaking, but then he got the honour of seeing Sirius standing over him with a teaspoon held over his face.
“Ew, what the fuck?” he asked, wiping his nose and ripping his headset off simultaneously. Sirius looked much too pleased for his own good. He should know better than to interrupt James during his pregame ritual.
“We have to go soon.” he said. James furrowed his brows. He always put aside about an hour just for listening to his pregame playlist.
“You’ve already used the hour.” Sirius said like he read his mind.
An hour? Already? James groaned at the thought of the upcoming game. It never meant anything good whenever he used the full hour. “Fuck..” he muttered. At least this roommate sent him a sympathetic look. They had both played and lived together for long enough to know the significance of the full hour, especially since James wasn’t even aware that he had been sitting there for that long. Come to think of it, his arse felt a little sore.
He looked up to the red mug in his hand, the smell of cinnamon filling his nose. “You’re not supposed to be drinking that before a game.” he pointed out. Chai tea was a calming agent, and hockey players did not need to be sleepy and calm before a game. Still, he didn’t really try to be alternate captain-James with it, maybe it would help them to have Sirius’ hot head a little less hot out there today.
Sirius only shrugged. Since when had he followed the dietary rules? “We’re not supposed to be late before a game either, so get your ass up.” he commanded.
James groaned again, but didn’t do anything to get up just yet. “Would you be a dear and put some bread in the toaster, I need to finish this up.”
He was sure that if this request was made on any other day, Sirius would have laughed at him, but today, James wasn’t only his roommate, but his ice partner. They both needed the other to play at their best to do it themselves, but James was just a little more high maintenance when it came to pregame rituals than Sirius.
“Alright, five minutes tops.” he ordered before walking straight out.
In the span of a second, the world went quiet again when James placed the headphones back on this ears. The song had changed to something Frank Ocean again, but James was quick to flick up his phone to change it.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. He shuffled through his playlist in search of the song that had never failed to get his head where it was supposed to be. He only ever used it when it was absolutely necessary, but he thought this qualified.
Pleased as his thumb found its target, he slumped his head back down on the mattress with a sigh. The light melody of an electric guitar started playing in his ears, a smile tugging at his lips.
Welcome to your life
There’s no turning back
In an instant, his mind flowed back to when his father first had put it on in the car, and James had been absolutely in love. He’d even taught himself to play the guitar just to play the intro of it, though that was a secret no one but Siirus and Remus was aware of. And his parents of course.
We will find you acting on your best behaviour
Turn your back on mother nature
Everybody wants to rule the world
He couldn’t think about the play anymore. That was his one rule with this song: no strategizing. Just listen to the lyrics.
Of course, it was a struggle keeping his focus, but it helped that it was one of his favourite songs ever created. He needed to empty his head to prepare it for the inevitable strategy meeting with Frank and Coach.
Help me make the most of freedom,
and of pleasure
Nothing ever lasts forever
Everybody wants to rule the world
He could see the stands in his head, pictured them filled with people sporting their college colours. It was days like this that he was eternally glad that hockey was so popular at Gryffindor, he could really use the support of the crowd when his head was all jumbled up. He pictured his parents looking for him in the stands, then sending him cheerful waves when they finally spotted his jersey number. He pictured Alice sitting in the stands, Frank sending her his usual blow kiss that made a few people sitting around her confused. He pictured Remus sitting up somewhere close to them, Mary and Lily at his side.
Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down
When they do, I’ll be right behind you
By the time the sound of a message momentarily lowered his music, James was feeling better about the game. Last year, they had gone over to Arizona to play against Ravenclaw, but this year he would have the support of his family and friends.
He opened his eyes with much more confidence than when he had closed them and fished his phone out. Probably, it was just Sirius not bothering to go back into his room to remind him that he needed some breakfast, but he was sort of surprised to see that it was just a picture from Remus.
He swiped his phone open before he could open it, but boy has he glad that he did.
Lily was sitting on the couch, drawing on a pair of red t-shirts with markers. He could barely make out a 17 and the start of what was probably a 4. Beside her on the couch was Mary looking at it with annoyed eyes and a can of cider tipped up against her lips. It was certainly early in the day to start drinking, but the rules changed when there was a game. Students rarely showed up completely sober, mostly just the parents.
Remus: We’re ready to win.
James smiled at the message. Remus did not care too much for the sport, but that was nothing compared to Lily. She’d never particularly enjoyed watching it herself, but neither of them had ever missed a game unless they absolutely had to. Mary was a bit different in that regard, there was nothing she enjoyed more than watching Sirius getting put in his place by opposing players. There was also the element of violence that she secretly (or very openly, actually) liked.
James: you better be 🫡
He shot the text back before pocketing his phone and stepping out of his room. Remus was right. He had a game to win.
“I can’t wait to hospitalise him.” Sirius grumbled from his side.
James eyebrows flew up at the remark. This was not the first and likely not the last time he was thanking whatever God was listening that his friend was all talk and no game. If Siirus were to act on all of his promises, he would have been jailed a long time ago. “Well, I’m going to need you to not.” James tried even though he already knew that it was a lost cause.
As expected, Sirius’ eyes flew over to him with what he could only guess as betrayal. He was glad his driving gave him an excuse to keep his eyes on the road. “I’ll go through you if I have to, James, I’m fucking him up.”
He could laugh. Of course Sirius would not let this go. James was definitely going to have to run the idea of using Evan more by Frank and Coach then, give Sirius less time to stay true to his word.
He parked his car in the spot in front of the ice hall. At least they didn’t have to compete with the audience for the parking spots since they were here a lot earlier than what it would take for them to arrive. Whenever they played at home court, James and Sirius would always take advantage of the fact that they had the ice all to themselves before the actual warmups. Or, James would, Sirius was a bigger fan of warming up on the bikes.
“Can you at least take one major and be done with it? We can’t have a reprise of last year.”
Sirius seemed to sour even further at the mention of their last game against the other college. “I’ll try.”
Thank god that he at least cared enough about the game to not be a complete idiot about it. Or maybe James was speaking too soon, he never knew when it came to his dear best friend.
After parting ways in the locker room, James walked into the still dark ice hall with his headphones in place. He hadn’t bothered to put on his gear yet, just the underclothes he’d wear and a pair of warm up pants. He wasn’t too big a fan of walking around in tights.
He only brought his stick and a puck. Of course, he didn’t have a lot of time considering they would come in with the zamboni. Not that he needed too much time, this was no warmup, just a way to get his head in the game.
He started doing simple laps around the ice while some Mac Miller drifted from his headset. He’d turned up the noise cancelling, even though he loved the sound of the ice and the puck hitting his stick. He’d save that for the actual game.
He didn’t make any attempts at shooting at the goal. He didn’t want to use up his good shots before the warmups even started. It would just psych him out. This was purely just for the fun of it, a way to relax himself before the game. It was much more fun than using a bike to get his body started before the game, though he was usually forced to whenever they played somewhere else.
He didn’t use long before he was back, a bit sweaty and ready for the game. All of the rituals were just a means to calm nerves the day of a game. Everyone had something, even Sirius. He would do something to get his mood and energy up. Frank would do something very similar to James, though he would always pace while listening to exclusively Fleetwood Mac.
When he returned to the locker rooms, the team had started arriving, but he was unsuccessful at finding their captain even though he knew there was no way Frank hadn’t already arrived. Probably, he was just walking around in some hallway listening to Landslide or something. He changed out of his skates and walked out of the room, passing a few of the guys passing each other a football. The guys were never too talkative this early before warmups, that didn’t start until after people were done doing their rituals.
He searched the hallways outside of the dressing rooms before moving on to the hallway. There were a few people there, but it was mostly people in purple sweaters heading towards the guest locker room. He shot them a few glances and got a few back, though there was no sign of their captain. He didn’t expect to feel good about stumbling onto the enemy, but it was a nice feeling knowing that they recognized him without any indicators of which team he belonged to, just warm up clothes, sweat, and some remnants of water he had splashed over his head.
He quickly moved on to other places he had seen Frank before, which were surprisingly many times in the figure skater part of the building. It made enough sense, it was always empty whenever they had a game. It could get quite noisy. That meant that every hallway was completely free for Frank to roam undisturbed. Too bad that James really needed to disturb him.
The hallways were empty, so he ended up checking the actual rink. The lights were all turned off, so he quickly dismissed the idea. Frank wasn’t exactly the scared type, but even he wasn’t stupid enough to be walking around on a rink in the dark. James didn’t believe in ghosts and demons, but he did if it was dark enough.
He double checked the hallway by the locker rooms just to be sure, but didn’t see anything. That was until one of the doors opened.
He sighed in relief. “Frank, why the fuck were you in…”
His voice stopped short. Out of the door came none other than Regulus Black in the flesh, bag slung over his shoulder, dressed in his team coveralls. James stopped dead in his tracks, but there was no hope of Regulus not noticing after he’d spoken that loudly. Great, he thought. Just the person he’d spent an entire day trying not to think about, just a few feet in front of him.
His eyes met James’, dark and confused. “James?” he asked. He couldn’t help but notice that the curls were overly defined from being wet. They were neat as always, but they flowed a lot more freely without the products in them. He had a faint flush over his face as further proof that he’d taken a shower after skating.
James realised he was staring at him, and forced his eyes back up to Regulus’. “You’re not Frank.” he said.
Regulus shook his head with a puzzled look on his face. “Sorry to disappoint?”
He couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle. Obviously . He wanted to slap himself. The thing was that his brain didn’t really help him come up with something to say to him, too busy trying to decide if he even should, or just get away as soon as possible.
The result ended in James staring some more like he'd never seen another human in his life. As if Regulus needed more reasons to think that he didn’t know how to act around people.
Regulus pushed the door closed behind him, still keeping suspicious eyes on him. James was dumbstruck. He’d purposefully not gone to pick up his shirt the entire week because a part of him was afraid of seeing him again. Now that he did, all he could think of was the faint memory of him with the red edges to his hair.
«Are you ok?» Regulus eventually asked, taking a step forward. James instinctively jerked, barely able to stop himself from taking a step back. That didn’t do much to make Regulus look less confused, maybe even a bit worried.
«Are you watching the game?» he found himself asking.
He shook his head, but said nothing. If James was being completely honest, he was glad of it. He didn’t know if he could handle having Regulus watch him play, even though he didn’t know why. It was bad enough having him look at him now.
James felt bare from it, very aware that he’s sweaty and wet in workout clothes. He knew that Regulus knew he had a game so it didn’t make any sense why he would feel that, but that was indeed what he felt. The worst part was that Regulus thought something was wrong, so he studied him with more intent eyes than what James could handle.
It also felt like the crash of two worlds that should not have collided under any circumstances. His brain was in hockey mode, or at least trying very hard to be. Hockey was his world he shared with Sirius, while this little bubble he had with Regulus was just shared between them. Maybe not telling Sirius about it was a more conscious decision than what he’d thought because here he was, standing like a fool in front of his brother. Maybe there was a reason these worlds shouldn’t mix.
Regulus’ face turned in a frown before he took a few more steps. «James, what’s wrong?» he asked.
James didn’t answer. Saying nothing was wrong would be a lie, because there was definitely something that wasn’t quite right happening to him. He was about to play a game for God’s sake, why was his head all stuck like this?
«James.» he repeated, reaching out to touch his fingers to his elbow. It was so light he could barely even feel it, but it was enough for his skin to map out the exact parts where fingertips touched his sweater.
James.
He didn’t quite understand it, but the sound of his name was incredibly nice. Maybe it was the way he pronounced it, properly instead of the American way. He knew there was realistically no difference, but it was the only explanation he could come up with.
James.
Dark eyes searched his, looking for any hints of what was going on in his mind. James hoped they would find it for him, because fuck if he knew. His eyes snapped down to where fingertips met the thin layer of dry-fit fabric as they slowly slid over it with the barest touch to hook around his elbow.
«James.» he repeated once again, and James’ eyes flicked up to the source of the sound before he could think the better of it.
The source of the sound, of course, came from no other source than Regulus’s mouth. James could have excused it by quickly converting his gaze again, but he found himself stuck. Stuck trailing his eyes over the shapes, the curves and dips, the colour. The way they ever so slightly opened.
His stomach was doing all sorts of stunts, which was when James had a few epifanes. First being: fuck. The rest was unimportant after that single phrase had managed to perfectly capture his every thought at that very moment.
«James» he said, low enough to count as a whisper.
James, James, James. What was he doing? What was happening?
The worst part was that he knew the exact answers to both of those questions, but he refused to let them free into the universe. He couldn’t let them.
His eyes quickly flickered up from his lips before his dazzled mind started getting ideas, but he had no idea what would meet him at eye level.
The furrow in Regulus’ eyebrows had completely disappeared, the tension and worry completely melted off his face, replaced with something James couldn’t read. He wondered if he would have been able to if his brain was doing what it should have been doing.
If his eyes were searching his earlier, it was nothing compared to now. James drew a sharp breath, practically feeling every inch in his eyes that the other boy’s gaze touched.
Fuck , his mind repeated.
«I’m…» he started, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat, taking a step back. It was an art, being able to shake things off with the shake off his shoulders. Of course it didn’t shake anything off his mind, but that wasn’t the point. The point was ‘fake it until you make it’.
«I’m gonna go.»
He was positive that Regulus didn't believe his act for a single second. James wouldn’t have either.
Sirius
Now there was something truly wrong with his best friend. In the time span that Sirius used on the bike, James had managed to completely psych himself out. The other guys were being hyped up by Frank’s words to them, but James wouldn’t even meet his eyes.
«They won’t take that win from us again!»
Cheers of agreement filled the locker rooms, making Sirius’ ears ring. James had seemed fine enough in the car, why was he all of a sudden acting like they had already lost? This was the reason he couldn’t leave that man alone with his thoughts, he would just find a way to drive himself insane.
The look on James’ face wasn’t just bothered, but looked damned near panicked. There was nothing more Sirius wanted than to drag him off and force him to tell him what was going on, squeeze that look out of his eyes with a hug, or both. Unfortunately, he couldn’t just do that before the game. They were minutes, maybe seconds away from being sent out for warmups. He had no choice other than to wait for later that night to confront him, but there was no way he was getting away with it at this point.
“Alright, get out there and show them what you’re made of!” Coach interjected, making the dressing room bustle to life. Everyone had been completely geared up for quite some time, and they had been sitting ready, sticks in hand for quite enough time. Sirius slapped his helmet on top of his head as he walked up to head towards the entrance. He’d been the first one to go for quite some time, James coming right behind him.
The second he caught view of the ice rink, people in the stands started cheering. The Ravenclaw team had already begun stepping onto their side of the ice for warm ups. The second Siirus’ skate hit the ice, he slid off to the side, only turning back to look for James. Fortunately enough, he had a mind of him to come in the right order, so the tap of their skates went as smoothly as it always did, and they were both off to do their own thing.
Sirius didn’t go straight to the pucks, but instead took as few laps looking over the audience. Right over their goal, he caught eye of two people whe purely recognized because of their hair. Bright red and Black, braided back. They seemed to spot him right afterwards, and Lily stood up proudly to show off her red shirt with a #4 painted on it in horrible handwriting and a big grin on her face. Mary did not stand up, but he could well enough see her shirt with a #17 on it, matching his very own jersey. He grinned, but she didn’t look nearly as happy about it. Of course she didn’t, she was Mary and he was Sirius.
He sailed past them and ended up almost jumping straight into the jersey number he just saw on Lily. James was standing in front of the dashers, sending his usual wave and occasional flying kiss up to where Mr and Mrs Potter were sitting. Sirius turned his head up to send his own wave, and received two pairs of excited thumbs up.
“James.” he said, drawing his attention away from them. His eyes flew to him faster than what he thought they would, a flash of something like intense panic over them.
“Whoah, ok there?” he asked, not able to keep the worry from his voice.
He cast another look up at the stands before returning to him. “Yeah, sorry, you just scared me.”
Sirius didn’t buy that for a single second. He knew James well enough to know that the man couldn’t lie to save his own life. He couldn’t even make his voice sound slightly normal whenever he tried.
He skated completely up to him, and grabbed him by his helmet, placing the tops of their visors together like they were touching foreheads. Moments like these always reminded him of that time Mary said men only created sports as an excuse to be emotional and physical with each other. There likely wasn’t a person in this room that found what they were doing weird, it was just what hockey players did, like everything was excused the second they put a jersey on. He even vividly remembered watching a game when he was younger where two players celebrated a goal by kissing. Gay marriage wasn’t even legal at that time, but he along with everyone else though they were just really happy about the goal. Maybe he should have thought about that one a little longer.
“I don’t know what’s happening, but you need to get your head in the game.” Sirius said. James' eyes were cast down at the ice, but Sirius felt the movement of his helmet as he nodded.
“Whatever it is, you need to put it aside, and we’ll deal with it later, ok?” he tried assuring him. “I’ll help you with whatever it is, but we both know that you need this game to work out.”
Another nod. Still no words. You couldn’t have everything in this world, apparently.
He pulled back and slid his hand up to the very top of his helmet to give it the slightest shake. “Get out there.” he ordered, pushing him away.
During warmups, Sirius had pretty much ignored the presence of the Ravenclaws, but now as they took their positions against them, they were all he was looking at. Frank was doing the first shift, so Sirius was currently on the bench.
He watched as his own captain took place right up in front of the ref, a tall skater coming up with a white jersey and purple stripes. Sirius had his suspicions, but it was when the player turned to the judge that he caught sight of the number
Fucking Barty Crouch, his pretty little C on his chest, signalling that he was the captain. Sirius got mad only looking at him, but was suddenly very glad that Frank took the first faceoffs against him. He wasn’t completely sure he would have been able to keep his cool, and it was just embarrassing getting a penalty in his first shift.
A few words were exchanged between the two captains, but he didn’t worry too much about it. Frank was a hard guy to rile, and it seemed whatever Crouch had said just peeled right off him.
Behind them, James stood side by side with a Ravenclaw player, both in ready stances waiting for the puck to drop. As the referee raised the hand containing said puck, Barty watched it with interest as it stood motionless in the air, held up by a hand.
Then the hand dropped, and the game had begun.
It didn’t take long before Sirius was out there, and it didn’t take long before he was making his way up the middle, the puck being passed to him from Johnny. He barely got three touches in before he was checked hardly, but at least cleanly, and sent off to his left, scrambling to keep himself on his feet. In a way, he was glad that it wasn’t the number 84 on the jersey off the asshole, because that would have given him a penalty, and not a minor one either.
A few more rounds after that, and the first goal of the game was scored. To Sirius’ great disappointment, it went to Ravenclaw, some player he didn’t care to know about sending Pipes on his ass and going right past LeBlanc. Of course the cheers weren’t that excited, the room was mostly filled with Gryffindors, after all.
Up until this point, Sirius had for the first time in a long time felt as though he was playing alone on the ice, even though he had some shifts with James. That boy had not been able to put whatever it was behind him, because he was not paying too much attention. Of course, it was only Sirius that noticed this. Everyone else saw him stealing the puck from left to right, making shots and tricking the opponents, but he didn’t play like he usually would. It was like he had to check for Sirius before knowing where he was, and that cost them not only time, but the element of surprise. He wanted to shake that boy badly.
Like clockwork, it only took a couple of minutes after the first goal before the Ravenclaws started being nasty. They were chirping like fucking birds and being rather unececary. It was bad when Sirius preferred playing Slytherin over them. At least they had the decency to be more open about their dirty plays, taking penalty after penalty. Ravenclaw was like a mind game. They wanted you to put yourself in that penalty box, and usually stayed clear themselves. Of course, they didn’t play like saints either, so they had their moments there as well.
The next shift, Sirius was in the penalty box, blood on his face, murder on his mind. He sent nasty looks over the divider to the opposing team’s box, where some player he didn’t even recognize the name was sitting. At least they both got a minor, though Sirius thought he should have gotten a major for that one. He didn’t even have the puck anymore when he was run into by the defenseman. It was basic reflexes to push him off, but apparently, he saw this as rude or whatever, so Sirius was hit in the face with a cross check that made his head swim. It was only a natural reaction to swing at him with his stick after the bastard tried skating away, earning him two minutes for slashing.
James did not look happy, but that only fuelled Sirius’s anger. He didn’t get to be annoyed at Sirius after acting the way he did. It wasn’t like he could just let cross checking to the face go, that would be like telling every opponent that it was safe to fuck with him. It was not.
«Alright, Black, you’re out.» the penalty timekeeper informed him with the opening of a door. Sirius was quick out to rejoin the game. They would need a goal or two to win this thing.
James
He should have known better than to think the team would be able to keep their cool. Of course, he’d completely forgotten to talk to Frank about deploying Evan, but it seemed that both Coach and Frank were able to see that as the game progressed.
Which, thank God, because he was able to score their first goal of the game, evening out the scoreboard.
The bench area roared after the score. James was on the other side of the net from where Evan took the shot, and skated over to him.
«Nice one.» he smiled.
Evan looked quite pleased with himself. «What, not jealous that I’m stealing your shine?» he laughed.
James gave him a quick push of his helmet before skating off towards the middle. Something about it indicated that James was not playing at his best, which was true enough. He was barely holding on to his own sanity, forcing everything out of his head except for hockey. He was not going to let himself think about anything else, no chance. He could have an existential crisis about certain people later. For now, he needed to up his game, there was no way he was going to let Evan walk him like a dog out there.
As it turned out, that was easier said than done. James continued to be distracted by everything, growing increasingly more irritated after every slight inconvenience. The Ravenclaw’s scored one more goal, which peaked his sour mood.
The tip of the iceberg was probably being checked from behind, barely able to keep himself on his legs. He waited for the whistle to blow, but instead had to watch as the Ravenclaw captain skated away with the puck, passing it over to someone on the other side of the rink.
James looked over to the ref with his hands out in the air. «You’re not going to fucking call that?» he said in what he thought was a fairly restrained voice. He was frankly pissed off.
«Call what? That was a clean hit.»
He could have charged at the man hadn’t it been for the fact that it would get him suspended for longer than he could bear thinking about.
«He checked me from behind!»
Was no one paying attention anymore? Sure, he hit him a little to the side of his body, but he came from behind, giving James no time to prepare for the hit. That was a major.
«It was a clean hit, Potter, get back out there.»
James didn’t play rough, but he did when he lost his temper, and his temper was stolen along with that puck. His next shift, he had been fortunate enough to be placed on the ice at the same time as Crouch again.
The second the captain got the puck when James was close, he did the check, pressing him up against the boards. This time, the whistle came in an instant, which did nothing to calm him down.
«The fuck was that?» Crouch growled as he stood back up, getting up in James’ face. On any other occasion, James would have tried to diffuse the situation, but his head was boiling over.
«Watch your fucking checks, Crouch.» he said instead. Any other time, he would have gotten out of his face, but this time he was angry.
«Or what? You’re gonna send your dog after me?» Crouch challenged. James was well aware of his reputation, the way he just wouldn’t go after people, even after they went for him. He was just fortunate enough that his best friend was more than willing to do it for him, which still made people think twice before hitting him.
«I don’t need him to fuck you up, Crouch.» he said with a push, sending the other player gliding back a little bit.
«Hey, hey, back off, guys.» the ref said before sliding in between them, grabbing James before he could go after his target.
«You, penalty box.» he ordered.
Crouch snorted and sent the smuggest most awful look James could possibly imagine. Then, he topped it off with a shrug, and James was about to lose it.
Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on which state of mind he was in) the ref already had a hold of him, pulling him back.
«You wanna make it a major?» he asked, pushing James towards the penalty box.
The two minutes went by agonisingly slow, and he purposefully avoided looking up into the crowd, already knowing what would meet him. His parents refused to let him act like that on the ice, and had made a point out of not purposefully hurting anyone, even if it was hockey. James usually agreed, but some people needed to get their faces punched in.
He watched as multiple of his teammates were getting a bit rougher with Crouch, likely for that check from behind that went completely unpunished. It was ridiculous, really.
The next time he was out on the ice with Crouch, he made it no secret that he was furious with him. He’d check him, but restrain himself enough to make it clean so that he wouldn’t be put in the box again. At least Crouch seemed to be hanging on to his last bits of patience as well after all the annoying checks he’d gotten over the last round.
“The fuck is your problem, Potter?” he growled again. James wondered if he knew how to talk normally, or if that growl was just how his voice sounded. It was the only thing he’d heard from him.
“You.” he responded, James knew he was being stupid and creating more issues than what they needed, and not at all focused on what he needed to do. He was supposed to be their goalscorer, not their fighter.
He half expected a push back, but it seemed that the captain was holding himself off from it, as it would have definitely been a penalty. Maybe he was just giving up, returning to the play so that James could do the same.
Maybe.
Evan
Whatever was happening to their team, he didn’t quite understand it himself. Sirius was out here trying to be tactical while James was trying to get his face punched in by the other team’s captain. The roles weren’t as they should have been, and it confused them all.
Evan for one was getting frustrated by their behaviour, and that didn’t even touch upon the way the Ravenclaw’s were playing. Their checks were barely legal, and that infuriated him the most. They were doing all sorts of dirty plays, but barely even got any penalties for it. The worst had probably been that ugly check on James that they just completely got away with. He couldn’t really blame James for wanting to smoke someone after that, he would be pretty pissed off himself.
It was in the break that they finally got to air their concerns about things. The second they got in the locker room, Frank was on them like a tired preschool teacher.
“What the fuck is happening out there?” he asked, to which none of the guys replied. Most of them were the reason Frank was agitated, as few of them hadn’t given in to the temptation of making those Ravenlcaws eat the ice.
“James, why the fuck are you trying to get your ass handed to you by Crouch? Get over your grudge and score a fucking goal.”
Evan knew it was bad whenever Frank started swearing. He was normally a pretty chill guy, but he lost it every time the team was doing things like this.
“And Johnny, you need to stop getting send to the box, it’s not a fucking day spa, I need you defending the goal, not your honor or whatever. Let it go.”
Evan looked around the room at all of the faces of his teammates. Each and every one of them looked just about ready to throw the game just to get it done and over with. Sirius was sweaty and tired, looking like he’d just rather collapse on the floor. It was impressive, Evan had to give it to him. With James sitting with smeared blood from a cut on his nose, Sirius was really stepping up to the plate.
“And Evan, great work, keep the goals coming.”
He tried giving a nod and a smile, but he sensed that the locker room was heated. He didn’t want to make the guys annoyed with him right now, that was about the last thing they needed.
He wished he could have said things got better the next period, but he would have been lying. It took Johnny a total of half a shift before he was back in the box for roughing, and the Ravenclaws had not decided to play by the rulebook.
James was likely the only thing that changed. Evan noticed that he didn’t go after Crouch, probably reminded by Frank that he had a job to do.
Ravenclaw scored one more goal tallying the scoreboard up to 3-1. There was no way that Evan was going to give up so soon into the second period, but he had to admit that it was looking rather bleak for them. They could at least get the number up to a more respectable one.
“Man, I want to fuck them up.” Johnny said after coming off the ice, placing himself next to Evan on the bench.
“We know, we can see you trying.” Pipes chimed in from Evan’s other side.
“Don’t talk like you’re much better.” he shot back at him.
Evan sighed. He felt like the only sober person at a party, like everyone else shared this feeling that he only observed from the outside.
If he thought the game had been bad up until now, he had no idea how much worse it could get. It all started right after he switched out with Sirius. They had barely been able to hold off against their enemy team, but Evan tried focusing mainly on getting in another goal. Luckily for him, James had the same mindset as him.
During the shift, they acted as some sort of duo, like a light version of James and Sirius, passing between each other, trying to get a clear shot to the goal. After they couldn’t find any, they had to go with the more risky plays, trying to make one or lure the puck past.
After LeBlanc blocked a shot, Pipes had been quick to send it off towards Evan who was just at the centre ice. He was even quicker to locate James in his peripheral and start going towards the other goal, hoping that the winger got the memo.
One of the players was coming right at him, and Evan, sensing a check, sent the puck off to James. He managed to avoid getting hit, and watched as James made his way towards the goal, one of the Ravenclaw wingers on his heels.
Evan tried positioning himself closer to the goal, but he was successfully blocked up by the two defensemen. They were already playing shorthanded, so Evan was the only one on their team anywhere close. James was on his own with this one.
At first, it seemed like it could be going fairly well. James was manoeuvring around a player in his way, and Evan immediately got a flashback to that play recently made by Jack Peters against three players and a goalie. Was James actually about to pull something similar?
He advanced for the goal, and Evan grew more sure for every second that passed that he was going to make it. He was so entranced by the whole thing, watching it in what could just as well have been in slow motion that he missed it. He missed what he should have been able to see, missed the opportunity to stop Crouch as he came soaring past him, headed straight for James.
The second he saw it, he was too late. James looked up in just enough time to be able to see the captain right before he was rammed into.
Evan flinched as the contact was made, flinched at the sound of helmets and sticks crashing into each other. The hit itself wasn’t too bad, so Evan got a false sense of relief. He didn’t even consider the speed of both players at the point of contact, and at both of them hit the ground, momentum carried them on.
Evan flinched as he saw exactly what was about to happen. Both of them gliding off towards the boards, James going headfirst.
With a bang, James' head hit the boards, and Evan cringed in anticipation as Crouch came right behind him, driving him into where his head had made contact. Evan practically gasped, standing completely motionless as he waited for what happened next. Maybe they would fight, maybe they would both roll away injured.
Crouch was quick to crawl off to the side, holding his knee where it had likely hid James’ blade, but he wasn’t the one Evan cared about. He was already on the move, planning to be there the second James got up himself. If he wanted help off the ice, Evan would be there. If he wanted to fight the sucker, Evan would hold the teammates back.
The only issue was that James wasn’t getting up. Evan feared that the speed had given him a nasty concussion and whipped him out completely. In the distance, he heard a whistle blow.
He stopped right in front of where his teammate lay motionless, and discovered that he had been wrong. James wasn’t wiped out at all, it was worse than that. He wished he’d arrived to find James blacked out, but the sight of him not moving a muscle with his eyes wide open scared him more than he thought it possibly could.
“James.” he said, dropping down to his knees and throwing off his gloves. James’ eyes met his, big and terrified. Evam felt his heart start racing at the sight. No, this wasn’t right. He practically threw off his own helmet so that James wouldn’t have to wonder who he was in case he was concussed to the moon and back.
The ref was quick to his side, leaning down over him.
“James, can you hear me.” he asked. Evan didn’t miss the worry in his voice. In the back, he heard loud voices that was no doubt some argument rising. He didn’t care.
James responded with a thing between a groan and a sob, his breath getting quicker. Evan wasn’t sure whether it was from being tired or from hyperventilating. Either way, it didn't sound very good.
The ref did nothing to ease his increasing worry as he turned to signal for a medic, and Evan felt his heart rising to his throat. He didn’t turn from James though, grabbing his hand over his glove where the stick was still in place.
“James, are you ok?” he tried. His voice was nowhere near steady, but he tried hiding his fear. He didn’t want to scare James even more than he already was.
“Ev..” he tried, but was cut off by his own hyperventilation. He looked so desperate it made Evan hurt.
“Get the fuck off of me!” Evan heard behind him, and decided to turn to check what it was. Just as he had guessed, Sirius was off the bench being held back by two people, one of them being Coach. The other referee’s were busy enough themselves trying to break up multiple players screaming and punching at each other.
“Evan.” The sound of james’ voice quickly drew back his attention. It was small and weak, breaking off at the end. He still hadn’t moved an inch.
“James, I’m here, I’m here.” he reassured him, giving his hand a squeeze.
The ref put a hand over his arms. “Don’t touch him.” he instructed, and Evan was more than quick to let go. He was not about to do anything to make things worse.
“James, can you move your legs for me?” he asked.
“I..” he started but broke off, eyes desperately trying to look down at his legs. “I can’t..” he continued, and Evan saw the corners of his eyes start to shine.
“That’s alright, you just lay completely still.” the ref reassured.
“I can’t..” he repeated, more haste in his voice. “I can’t move.” he said in what could only be described as a gut wrenching and desperate sob. Evan wanted to break down then and there, the shock and terrifying realisations all at once.
“How is it looking?” a voice came from right beside the ref as the medic sat down beside him.
“Head collision to the boards, he can speak but not move.” the ref said.
“Alright, call for an ambulance.” the doctor instructed the ref.
“Is he going to be ok?” Evan asked the medic, but was promptly ignored. He guessed that he should have been glad that he put all of his attention to James.
He put a hand on James’ neck area, feeling around with care. “Can you feel any pain?” he asked.
“I can… I can’t feel anything.” he choked out, eyes locked up to the roof. At this point, Evan was certain that he was hyperventilating, not out of breath.
“That’s alright, you just lay completely still until the ambulance gets here.”
It was only then that the medic turned to Evan. “What can you tell me about him? Name, age?”
“James Potter, 20.” he replied.
The medic nodded.
“James!” the voice of a woman sounded behind them. Evan turned to find Mrs Potter running down the ice, supported up by one of the Ravenclaw players to not slip. Behind her, both Coach and Mr Potter tried to keep Sirius behind the benchline.
“James.” she said softer once she reached them.
“Mom?” he said, this time fully crying. There was nothing he wanted more than to stay by his side, but he recognized that he needed to give him some space. He had his mom there now.
Reluctantly, Evan got up and skated backwards away from them. He had fully intended to stand there and wait for the ambulance to arrive, but his plans were cut off.
“He had it fucking coming, he’s been checking me all game!”
Evan turned around to see Barty Crouch arguing with Pipes, a ref standing in between them. His helmet had been ripped off and was lying on the ice to the side.
He was not a violent guy, but something completely overtook him, filling his every bone with rage. It wasn’t just that he had done that to James, but that he was trying to blame it on him too.
There was no one watching him, no one scared that peaceful little Evan was going to do anything. That was well enough, because it gave him a clear path right at him.
“No, I didn't even..” Crouch never finished that sentence, the words on his lips replaced by Evan’s knuckles.
The captain stumbled back on the ice out of pure shock. Evan was right after him, landing him another hit.
“Hey!” a voice screamed from behind him as hands tried clutching at his jersey to stop him. Evan wasn’t exactly used to fighting, so he made the stupid mistake of looking back towards the sound.
Unfortunately for him, Crouch decided to take this moment to land his own hit, but he hadn’t removed his gloves. The hit was even harder than Evan had expected it to, landing straight on his jaw, sending him flying off to the side.
Crouch didn’t waste a single moment before getting on top of him, throwing another punch. Evan saw stars.
Just as he prepared for the third punch, Crouch’s arm was caught by the referee. Evan felt a trickle of something warm run down his jaw and throat, and he was almost positive that Crouch’s gloves had cut him hard.
The weight was lifted off of him, and he rolled over to his side, fingers grasping at his jaw. It was warm and wet, and his fingers came back filled with blood.
Evan was sent back to the locker rooms after that, and did not get to see the ambulance arrive. He did not get to see them take care of James or roll him off. All he got to do was sit there by himself, hoping that James’ was ok.