A Sickness For Regrets

[james t. potter]

Breathing was hard for James Potter that day. He'd had the team out on the pitch almost everyday last week, rain or shine. They never had to worry about the shine, and now James was a walking sack of germs. He refused to admit that he was sick, thinking that it would keep him from playing the match against Slytherin this afternoon. And since they were down two people already, they could not afford to loose James as well. He was their captain after all. Coughing out a deep throaty cough, he pulled his quidditch robes on and ran a hand through his messy hair. Grudge matches like this typically drew everyone out, but there was only one person he was hoping to see.

Walking to the edge of the lockers, he peeked out and squinted up at the stands. A flash of red hair caught his eye and his heart pounded. Was she sitting with a boy with long hair??? Severus! Damn!! He squinted at her again and realized that he was actually looking at students he didn't even know and suddenly felt rather stupid about assuming the worst. His heart lifted a little as he took up his broom and stepped out onto the rainy pitch. It was hard to see all the way to the other end, but he could tell the green blurs further down were the Slytherin players. James made a sound and hawked up some phlegm and spit it out on the ground. It was disgusting, he knew that but at that second he thought it was necessary. He took in a heavy breath and looked back at what was left of the team.

"We can do this. It's just a little rain..." He coughed. "I said it would be advantageous to practice in those conditions and I was right. They'll be more bothered by the rain than we will, and we're more used to the cold and wind, and can see through it twice as well as they can." He coughed once more. "We can do this... We have to." Turning back he held his broom tightly in his hand and rose into the air to make a lap around the pitch. James thought about scanning the seats for Lily, but knew he needed to focus on the game and tried to shake her from his thoughts.

Word count: 399
Tags: EVERYONE!! This is our March group event....Even though its a little late. I figured we could use more time as the holidays kept most of us away! So For this we need Gryffindor players and Slytherin players. Obviously. And we will need spectators galore so feel free to post as who ever doing what ever!!

[Colle Reid Jamison]

The weather was absolutely appalling.

Colle doesn't do cold weather, he doesn't enjoy it in the slightest, he'd much prefer to be wrapped up warm back in the common room, the heat of the fire his only company. Unfortunately he was stuck outside with his broom in hand as he traipsed over to the Quidditch pitch. No matter what the weather though he would never willingly miss a match, not for anything in fact. House pride does mean something to this Slytherin. Kicking Gryffindor's ass meant even more to him really.

Even if they don't win he'll be quite content to at least have knocked a few bludgers at their team, there's something satisfying about intentionally trying to harm and getting potentionally more of a chance for good points for actually succeeding in sending somebody off course. Knocking somebody off of their broom was the aim of the game to Colle thanks to his particular position, it was such a good stress reliever. Plus, there was something about this sport that just put everything else in his mind at rest, at least for the time he spends in the air anyway. Quidditch is just good. The competition is something Colle can actually relate to in a way, you have to be the best of there's not much point in playing.

The rain dampened his spirits as well as his hair, but not so much so that he was on the verge of throwing a hissy fit. The only spirit that had been dampened was his good nature (what little there actually is of it), now he just wanted to get the game over with as soon as possible and return back to the great hall to stuff his face full of desserts, maybe even have another drink to get rid of the mild hangover still lingering from last night's shenanigans with a certain Kaine Gates. His lazy gaze rose as the Gryffindor team took to their brooms, watching as they circled the pitch to the applause and cheering of their supporters.

It was Ayanna he looked to next though, their captain wasn't particularly somebody that Colle liked, but all the same he'd listen every now and then to her instruction. As soon as he's off the ground though he likes to be left to himself.

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[Regulus Black]

Regulus' heart was beating fast. He could feel it. Its normal rhythm was completely off. His feet felt like they were frozen to the ground, as he was standing there, alone, right next to his locker. It didn't seem like he was ever going to be able to force himself to walk out on the Quidditch pitch in this state. His body was panicking. This was a mess. He was a mess.

Why was he so nervous? They had been practicing just about every day for the past few weeks now; they were all more than ready. So how come he felt so completely unprepared? How come the only thing he wanted right now was to run back to the Slytherin common room, and forget he ever tried out for the team? Regulus pushed on hand against his locker, supporting his entire body that way, his heart still racing like it was about to explode.

You are pathetic. A voice in his head told him. You wanted this, now own up to it. Standing up straight again, he finally opened the door to his locker and stood there, staring at his broomstick. Regulus reached out to grab it; his arm felt stiff and heavy. This was not impossible. They were going to win. They were going to throw their victory in Potter's face. He was going to catch the Snitch easily. With a low groan, he slammed the door shut and walked quickly outside.

Of course, the weather was not at its best, but he decided to overlook that. There was no need to add more worries to his plate. As he walked towards where his team was standing, getting ready for the game to start, Regulus felt his hair becoming more and more wet, his Quidditch robes slowly getting soaked in the rain. He knew it wouldn't matter once he got up on his broom, but for now he was freezing. Once he reached the other Slytherins on the field, he wanted to say something, but found that no words would come out of his mouth. Instead, he just nodded at each one of them, waiting for his captain to speak.

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