Post by lilidotcom on Nov 2, 2011 16:20:14 GMT -8
Title: Beater
Rating: T
Warnings: none
Word Count: 299
Summary: A secret song
Written for: Triwizard Tournament Quidditch Drabbles!
Beater:
He’d never wanted to be a Beater.
He’d done it. For Prongs. There’s only been one Chaser spot going and although his best mate would never ever ask for such a thing, they knew each other two well for him to miss the signs. The torn expression between guilt and yearning.
He would have probably got the position anyway. No-one could fly like Prongs.
So he’d tried out for Beater instead. And just as he knew he would, the Captain has signed him on faster than you could say Bludger. It was as though he was born to swing the bat, Jason Wood had said, eyeing both his new team-members in somewhat awe. James had preened. He’d simply shrugged and thrown the bat on the ground. Already hating to touch the thing.
Of course he was good at it. If there was one thing Blacks were born to, it was beating things. Hitting. Bruising. Hurting. Screaming. Breaking. Bleeding.
There wasn’t much to it.
Timing.
Hearing the swish of leather cutting through air. He doesn't even need to look, to know which side it would bite.
Precision.
They say when beater hits the beaten just right, you can hear both sing. Not quite true. The Beater sings. The Bludgers, rather aptly, scream.
Power.
The reason he does it. Because the yearning is there, deep down. The other’s know it, and say it doesn’t matter. It’s a lie but one that he’s grateful for. So he plays Beater. Because hitting a ball, breaking Slytherin bones…it’s allowed in the name of sport, for your House Team.
And up among the clouds, no one can see how it made his eyes sparkle and his blood throb to a delirious rhythm.
And no one can see how much he loathes himself for singing.
End
