Dangerous Game

Hands, gloved with crimson and gold stripes, clapped enthusiastically, her voice strained to force out a louder scream. Her breath was a soft, smoky white in the cold air. Those bright, apple green coloured eyes shifted around the scene in front of her. Blurs of crimson and green sped past her vision, sending her into a fit of adrenaline produced giggles.

There was nothing like watching an excellent Quidditch match, knowing that you're absolutely freezing your ass off, but not feeling it because adrenaline is surging through your veins. There was nothing like watching iron-hard Bludgers flying through the air, a football-sized red ball being tossed back and forth between players, and occasionally catching a sparkling glint of gold reflecting off the sun high up above one of the goal hoops. There was nothing like knowing anyone could get knocked off a simple broomstick, fall fifty-feet to the dust below, and not be able to move because they've broken too many bones. There was nothing like knowing any of this could happen to your friend, your boyfriend, your life.

Lily took in a sharp gasp of breath as she watched one of the Bludgers pass over James' head just by an inch or two. "Oh, shit!" A hand shot up to conceal her eyes for a moment, but she couldn't help peaking out between her fingers. For a moment, it had felt like her heart stopped beating (she wouldn't have been surprised, though). Gaze finally caught the speeding red blur that was her boyfriend, and she watched him closely. It was perfectly normal for the girlfriend to be paranoid, right? Worried that her love was going to get knocked upside the head by a Bludger or bat, and be absolutely nutters for a week or two - or unconscious, even. The thought of it made her sick to her stomach.

The Gryffindor crowd went into an uproar, screaming and clapping on all sides of her. The other two chasers on the Gryffindor team had come up to James and were high-fiving him quickly. "He must have scored.." she mumbled under her breath as she looked to the score-box. "Eighty to thirty. We've got this in the bag - I just know it." Talking to herself, she brought her focus back to the game. Eyes followed, trying to find James, but it was nearly impossible when you could barely make out who was who.

Suddenly, she screamed. But not a cheerful scream - it was a scream of absolute horror. "Shit, James!! James! Fuck!" She moved quickly, clawing her way out of the front row of the box she was in. It had happened almost like slow motion. James was flying toward the Slytherin hoops, the Quaffle under his right arm, focus on the hoop. He never saw it coming. Suddenly, a large brown ball, made of pure iron, smacked him directly in the temple. It bounced off his skull like a bowling ball would against pavement. And then he fell. Right off of his Moonbeam 3000, and fifty-feet to the earth below. She could feel the tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. "No, I can't fucking cry. Not over this. It's happened before - he'll be fine." Sniffling a little, she rushed down the stairs and to the ground. Feet carried her body at a quick pace toward the hospital tent. The echo of cheers and boos flowed in one ear and out the other. The game no longer mattered, because all she was worried about was James.

One hand flew the curtain of the hospital tent over and she found her way to the bed they had James on. A hand was brought to her mouth and she glanced to the nurse. "Madam Hinkle?" The elderly lady looked up to Lily with a warm, but very apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Miss Evans, but I have to ask you to leave. He'll be in the hospital wing later this evening - you can visit him then." Her eyebrows furrowed in confused disgust, but there was no point in arguing the matter. Green eyes, glazed over from the oncoming tears, glanced to her unconscious boyfriend on the bed. A large wound was visible on his temple, blood was running all down his face. It nearly made her throw up right there, but she made it out of the tent and behind a tree before she did so.