Cynthia MacLanley

1854: Never a Dull Moment

"'Allo, Allie. What're yeh doin'?" asked Cynthia, perching on the arm of the chair Allie was occupying.

"I'm reading up on what Dippet was telling us yesterday about the Quintapeds," he replied, looking up at her and adjusting his glasses.

"Th' Hairy MacBoons? Me Pa tol' meh abou' em unce."

"Is this story true?"

"Yeh'd have teh ask 'em yerself. An' I dunt think they're the cunversational type."

"Quidditch team!" Androgski stuck his head into the common room, half in and half out of the portrait hole. "I got the field tonight. Be on the pitch in fifteen minutes." He disappeared.

"Hey, Saturday is the first game against Ravenclaw, isn't it?"

"Aye. Hence t'extra practices." Cynthia raised her eyebrows. "I wish he'd given us a bit more warnin', I rilly need teh get tha' Potions essay done. Oh 'ell, I'll du't tomorreh. See yeh later, all righ'?" She got off the chair and followed Cecilia upstairs to the girls' dorm, and then went to her own room to throw on some more layers and a pair of breeches. Grabbing the Bellona from under her bed, and admiring the polish she had applied the previous night, she skipped downstairs and exited the Common Room with a wave to Allie.

Steve, still smiling, caught up with her on the stairs going down. "Aren't you so excited?" he asked, tripping over his own feet in his exuberance. "Ravenclaw's gotten the Quidditch Cup as long as I've been here. But Henrietta Moxington graduated last year, and judging from that Hufflepuff game two weeks ago, her replacement is definitely not on the same level."

"I think Androgski'll push us a lot this year," added Cynthia, following him through a hall and ducking behind a tapestry.

"I agree. Sure, he's not the most pleasant of people, but he's really motivated."

"It's hard teh imagine him as a Beater. He's rilly got a knack fer defense."

"The choice was one more of necessity than of ability. He's fast in reflexes, but he waits until the last second to react."

"What's so bad abou' that? It gives'm luts o' time to aim an' such."

He opened the front doors for her. "If he misses the Bludger, he has no choice but to get hit real hard."

Cynthia blinked. "An' 'e's...?"

"Broken a few ribs, sprained a couple limbs, snapped a wand or two." He shrugged. "It happens."

She decided to change the topic as they walked out to the pitch. "So, di' yeh see 'ow I did at t'first game?"

"Yeah! You have excellent handling. The only thing I can suggest is aim improvement, but that'll come with in-game experience. That broom of yours is really top-of-the-line, isn't it?"

"Aye!" Cynthia paused for a second, wondering if he would laugh. "I, er...I named her-it."

"Really?" Steve held up his thick-handled broom for Cynthia. "I named my baby too. She's the Vega Omega, because she's the end of all other Quidditch stars. Isn't she a beauty?"

"Ach, sure she is. Mine is th'Bellona. Fer no reason, rilly."

"Bellona? That's a beautiful name."

"Merridew! MacLanley! You're late!" Androgski looked at his pocket watch and up at them disapprovingly.

"By a minute, Calvin," replied Steve coolly.

"Every minute counts." He turned to the rest of the players, who were talking amongst themselves. "We're going to do maneuver drills for about a while, then a scrimmage until dark. So everyone on your brooms and let's start with laps." There was a pause, and then everyone kicked off into the sky and began a clockwise run around the pitch. Androgski tapped his throat with a Loudspeaker spell and boomed out maneuvers, and Cynthia found her mind clearing as she focused entirely on looping and fishtailing among her teammates. Before she knew it, Androgski had released the practice Snitch, the Quaffle, and one Bludger, and the team members broke up into their individual responsibilities.

Cynthia and the veteran Beater, Matthew Lovegood, had developed an excellent method of practice. One would enmesh him or herself within the rest of the action of the team, while the other would be aiming for team members for the first Beater to protect. They would switch pretty frequently, and sometimes, when they really got into the moment, they couldn't remember or tell which position they were taking.

The sun had set and twilight was slowly fading into night when Androgski called in his loud voice that practice was over. Matthew had just launched the Bludger to the far side of the pitch, and Cynthia decided to wait in the air for the ball to return. She was planning on catching it and bringing it down, a neat trick Androgski had shown Matthew but somehow "forgotten" to teach to the female Beater.

A few seconds had passed, and Cynthia squinted into the falling dark. Did Matthew get it already? No, she could see his wide shape on the ground behind her, and he had never gone towards where he had hit the Bludger. There was something odd by the base of the goal baskets, though, and Cynthia urged the Bellona closer to figure out what the dark shape was.

Suddenly, there was a whoosh of air, and Cynthia saw the Bludger pelt past her right ear. She turned around and set herself up to roll with the Bludger's attack, broom and all. The iron ball turned around and swung through the air towards the only Quidditch player left in the air. Cynthia braced herself, and -

-BAM! The Bludger was in her hands, and dragging her backwards. She thought both her elbows were broken, but she curled her arms and body around the Bludger and guided the broom down with her legs. It felt as if a compacted Hungarian Horntail was in her grasp, but she managed to get out of the air and onto the pitch.

"Androgski! Look! I caugh' it!" Cynthia called loudly, trying to keep both of her feet on the ground as the Bludger struggled against her. She looked to where she had seen the team last, and to her great surprise no one was there. "Androgski? Steve? Matthew?"

"I got that," came Matthew's voice from behind her, and she whirled around. "I think you better get over there," he added, motioning with his head towards the dark shape now surrounded by Quidditch players as he took the Bludger from her."

"Cynthia!" called Steve. "Cyn, help!"

Cynthia got the horrible feeling something was terribly wrong and, leaving the Bellona on the ground, ran towards the goal baskets. Cecilia, Androgski, and the rest of the team was gathered around someone sprawled out on the ground. Steve grabbed her hand with his left and waved his wand with his right. "Lumos!"

"ALLIE!" screamed Cynthia.

~x~

"I'm so, so sorry!" sobbed Cynthia.

"Cyn! I dow! I dow! Id dwas an accidend!" Allie, a large white bandage covering his nose, was sitting on a bed in the hospital wing. It was the morning after the night he decided to see his friend practice, and instead became part of the action. He was knocked unconscious by the impact of the Bludger right on the bridge of his nose, but fortunately, the nurse told him between regaining consciousness and falling asleep, that was the only thing that had been broken - albeit a few times.

It really wasn't Cynthia's fault, or anyone else's for that matter, but the sight of Allie lying cold on the ground with his face an almost unrecognizable bloody mess had sent her into a marathon of hysterics. She had been somewhere between wailing and sniffling for nearly twelve hours, save the five or six hours of uneasy sleep, and the Headmistress had fortunately given them both the day off from lessons.

The nurse appeared and went right to Allie's bed, as he was the only patient in the infirmary. Cynthia snuffled and rubbed her bright red nose as she made way for the nurse. The woman asked Allie how he felt, and he replied that the only discomfort he had was the bandage.

"I can take care of that," replied the nurse kindly, and she drew out her wand. She tapped the plaster on its edges, and when she had come full circle, she was able to lift the bandage from his face easily. Underneath was a translucent green jelly that she had applied the night before, and using a towel, she wiped it gently off. "Oh, that looks much better, dear."

Cynthia moved one finger from the hands she had put over her eyes. Allie, wiping the last of the jelly from the creases next to his nostrils, looked much, much better than Cynthia had ever imagined. In fact, save for some new, slightly purple, and rather prominent crooks in his long nose, he looked exactly the same. She brought her hands from her face and gave him a big hug. "Allie! Oh, Allie! Yer as good's new!"

He smiled as Cynthia pulled back from the embrace, and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand. Tenderly, he placed them on his nose and, upon finding no discomfort, tipped his head forward. For a second, he blinked rapidly, and then burst into laughter. Cynthia joined him. Even though his glasses should have slid to the floor already, a new bump in his nose miraculously held them in place.