Chapter Text
"Is it true? Has Furuya Satoru really been made a member of the Slytherin Quidditch team?" Asked Mishima, the first-year Hufflepuff boy, his voice a mix of awe and envy.
Sanada, flipping through a copy of Which? Broomstick magazine, nodded. "It’s true alright, though I still can’t believe it. Do you know, he’s the youngest Chaser in over two centuries?”
“But Professor Sakaki said First Years aren’t allowed to play Quidditch!” Mishima exclaimed heatedly.
Sanada shrugged, “Kataoka must've persuaded him to make an exception.”
Next to Sanada, the other Hufflepuff first year, Raichi mumbled something inaudible.
“Speak up!” Laughed Sanada.
Raichi went red, luckily Mishima was able to translate for him, “He wants to know if you’ve seen him play.”
Sanada smirked, “Well he’s been at the all-player practice sessions, though I've yet to see him in action. But Maezono was with him last week. He says the guy's a Quidditch genius.”
Across the room, Umemiya tried to look disinterested as he lounged across a sofa in the Hufflepuff common room. This was all anyone had been talking about for days. That lanky Slytherin first year who had impressed Kataoka so much that he’d been made a Chaser for the first Quidditch match of the year.
Furuya’s broom had arrived yesterday in the middle of breakfast. It was gorgeously wrapped in brown packaging, and Furuya had opened it at the table. The broom was black and almost perfectly straight, apart from the very end of the handle which went up in a little tick. The twigs were a mixture of black and dark grey and were shaped like lightning bolts. Sanada had informed them it was a ‘Thunderbolt 9.’ Umemiya didn’t know anything about broom brands, but it looked magnificent.
And expensive.
At the end of summer, the day before coming back to Hogwarts, when Umemiya had finally made it to Diagon Alley, he had headed straight for Quality Quidditch Supplies and looked at some of the brooms.
The prices were extortionate.
Umemiya couldn’t even enjoy looking at the brooms knowing how expensive they were. He quickly moved on to the second-hand Quidditch shop ‘Sweep Dreams’, and found that even used brooms were well outside of his price range. Even if he didn’t buy any school supplies, he still wouldn’t be able to afford one.
There was no way he could ask his parents, they barely gave him enough money for school as it was.
All his books were already second-hand, and although he’d had enough money to buy trousers and a new pair of school shoes from Clarks, he’d had none left over for a new cloak. Umemiya had grown a lot over summer, and the one from last year was already too small for him. Nao had given him the incantation for an engorgement spell, but it wasn’t very precise and when they tried it on the train, Umemiya went from having three quarter-length sleeves, to robes that hung off him like the grim reaper.
If Umemiya couldn’t even afford robes that fit, he would never be able to buy a broom. And if he couldn’t buy a broom, he’d never make the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.
The school brooms had been fine for practising on, but they were nothing compared to what members of the Hogwarts’ teams rode. If he came out with one of the school brooms he’d look like a joke. He’d be the only student without his own broom.
His dark thoughts were interrupted by Mishima who asked loudly.
“So Sanada, do you think you’ll make the team?”
Sanada grinned, “I’ve been invited to a team practice, and the temporary captain says that if I keep playing as well as I have been, he’ll mention me to Kataoka.”
Umemiya frowned. What did Sanada mean by ‘temporary captain?’ He supposed Kataoka had explained all this to them at practice. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to play anyway.
Across the room that Raichi kid mumbled something, which Mishima translated to ‘well done.’
Sanada, Mishima and Raichi had formed a little group. Sanada had been hanging out with those two first years almost constantly since they’d been sorted into Hufflepuff. Umemiya supposed it made sense, as although Sanada, Maezono and Kawakami all sat together in lessons, Sanada had never really seemed that close to the other two. So now he spent all his time with Mishima and Raichi.
Umemiya thought they were a strange trio. Sanada was well-liked and handsome; Umemiya had seen some of the new first-year girls giggling when they passed him in the hallway. Meanwhile, Mishima was loud and already boasting about his flying skills despite being obviously clumsy, and Raichi was so timid it was hard to believe he was really Professor Todoroki’s son. The boy seemed interested in Quidditch, frequently heading out with a bat to practise. But Beaters needed to be brave and aggressive, qualities which Raichi, who struggled with eye contact, obviously lacked.
Umemiya’s idle thoughts were interrupted by Nao.
“Done your Herbology homework yet?”
“Yep.” Umemiya responded, without looking up.
“That’s interesting, given that we don’t have Herbology homework this week.”
“Then why did you ask?” Umemiya met his gaze, and responded with a slightly dangerous edge to his tone.
Nao pretended not to have heard this, instead asking a second question;
“Why haven’t you been attending Quidditch practice?”
“Don’t feel like it. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Nao paused for a second, and Umemiya saw his jaw tense. For a moment, he wondered if Nao was going to yell at him.
But he didn’t. Instead Nao said, tiredly, “Will you come to the library with me? We can do our Transfiguration homework together.”
“Can’t. Got detention tonight.”
“For not handing in your Charms homework?”
“Yep.”
There was a long tense pause. Then Nao spoke again.
“Umemiya - ” He began in a hard voice, but Umemiya cut him off immediately.
“Whatever you were going to say, save it.” He stood up.
“Fine. Do whatever you want.”
“I will.”
Umemiya stormed out of the room and Nao didn’t try to stop him.
As he exited the common room, he patted down the pocket of his robes to check he had his packet of cigarettes and lighter.
Umemiya had smoked a bit with his friends over the holiday. Although he hadn’t really enjoyed it, he had felt a rush of anger while packing up his things. Nicking a pack of Chesterfield Reds and a lighter from his mum had been easy, and tossing them into his trunk had, in some strange way, provided a sense of relief.
Since arriving, Umemiya hadn’t regretted this decision. Smoking gave him a chance to get away from everyone else, and have a moment alone. Also, they reminded him of home, the cardboard packet, and the Muggle lighter. They proved he wasn’t like all the posh twats at Hogwarts.
He scowled, remembering a couple of days ago when Nao had asked him why his robes smelled of smoke. Well, it wasn’t any of his business what Umemiya did with his own body.
Angrily turning the corner, Umemiya walked towards a spot at the far end of the lake that he used to run past last year. There were lots of trees, to stop anyone seeing him, and it had become his go-to spot when he needed a moment on his own.
Today he wouldn’t get that though.
Already leaning against the trunk of the tree, was a small boy.
Sitting with his knees tightly hugged to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, he was staring vacantly into the water. His black hair hung limply over his forehead, and his skin was deathly pale. Umemiya recognized him at once; this was the boy who had spent almost six minutes under the Sorting Hat.
‘Mukai Taiyou,’ Umemiya recalled. That was his name.
Umemiya had hardly been paying attention during the Sorting Ceremony, but for some reason this kid had drawn his gaze. What he saw filled him with immediate unease. How thin he was. The dark shirt he wore under his school clothes…
There was something about him that Umemiya recognised. That reminded him of certain kids at his primary school, the loners whose clothes always smelt, and who never had money - even for school trips, or lunch. Mukai’s uniform was obviously brand new and spotless… but still, something about him felt similar somehow.
Since his arrival, Umemiya had seen Mukai hanging out with that prick Wakabayashi, the boy he’d gotten in trouble for punching last year. Umemiya had avoided Wakabayashi so far this year, but he hadn’t missed the nasty look Wakabayashi gave him when, broom-in-hand, he’d passed Umemiya in the hallway. It was an ‘oh dear, don’t you have one’ faux-pitying look, that had almost earned him another whack.
If this Mukai kid was hanging out with someone like Wakabayashi, then it was no wonder he was upset. It probably served him right. Why should Umemiya care what was wrong with him?
He looked over again.
Mukai was now trembling, as if chilled by some internal cold that the late summer air couldn't touch, his shaking hands covering his face.
All of the anger drained out of Umemiya, and without really knowing why, he walked away.
The next morning in the Great Hall, pale morning sunshine bathed the room in a bright, cheerful glow. The sky above was a clear blue, with only a few stray wisps of cloud to be seen and it promised to be a lovely day. On the long tables, the glasses of pumpkin juice were an appealing amber in the sunlight, and the smells of toast and warm jam added to the cheery atmosphere. The benches were filled with relaxed pupils chatting over breakfast, and the sounds of clinking cutlery and happy discussion, were a lively accompaniment to the meal.
Only one area was failing to enjoy this pleasing start to the day. At the Hufflepuff table, there was a definite patch of gloom.
Umemiya stubbornly refused to meet Nao’s steady gaze as they ate together, spooning cereal into his mouth in resentful silence. Unfortunately, his overlong sleeves spoiled his attempts to look unbothered, continually falling over his hands and trailing into his bowl. By the third time he’d squeezed milk out of the cuff, Umemiya practically had steam coming out of his ears, and he threw his spoon angrily onto the table, cursing and giving up.
Nao gave an exasperated sigh as he finished his own bowl of Cornflakes, and Umemiya buttered his toast sullenly, feeling annoyed with his friend. Nao didn’t understand anything, he always had nice stuff. In fact, Nao was judging him too, when he should be backing him up, that’s what a real friend would do.
Nao drained his glass, finishing his meal, and pushed away from the table, evidently about to leave.
“Hey, aren’t you going to wait for me?” Umemiya asked, half-irritated, half-in-alarm.
“Well, I’m not going to sit here watching you sulk.” Nao answered, flatly. “So I’m going back to get my stuff for Transfiguration. Unless you’re done, of course?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
“I’ll come with you,” Umemiya decided, resentfully getting to his feet and dropping the last of his toast onto the plate.
Despite agreeing to go, Umemiya was still scowling as he joined Nao and the two left the room, but as they were crossing the hallway there was an interruption.
“Umemiya, a word with you please.” Professor Kataoka had followed them out.
Unwillingly, Umemiya turned back to face the professor.
“You can go on Nao, he won’t be long,” Professor Kataoka said. Nao hesitated before continuing in the direction of the Hufflepuff common room. The professor waited for him to leave, and then looked at Umemiya. “I am disappointed, Umemiya,” he began, “that you have not been attending Quidditch practice. After your efforts last year, I did not think you were someone who gave up so easily.”
Umemiya scowled, “maybe I got bored with it. I don’t have to go.”
“No, you don’t, though it is a waste of your talent and a loss for your house.” The professor replied calmly. “But from what I am hearing, missing practice is only one of your failures this year.”
Umemiya’s heart had given a little jump of pleasure at hearing the professor thought he was talented, but the rest of the remarks brought an angry flush to his cheeks, and his scowl deepened.
“I haven’t failed anything. We haven’t even done any tests yet.”
“So things are going well?” When Umemiya didn’t answer this, stubbornly looking down at his feet and thrusting his hands into his pockets, Professor Kataoka sighed. “What changed over the summer, Umemiya?”
“Nothing.”
“If there is a problem, you should come and speak to me.”
“I’m fine. I don’t have to play if I don’t want to.” Umemiya didn’t quite dare to say ‘keep your nose out of my business’, but the implication was there. He shifted his feet, “I have to get my stuff for Transfiguration.”
“Very well, you may go.”
As Umemiya walked quickly away, he could feel the professor watching him and he hunched his shoulders, thrusting his hands even deeper into his pockets. He didn’t need any help.
Transfiguration was a disaster.
After being held up by Professor Kataoka, Umemiya was the last to arrive. He got there, out of breath, only to discover that Professor Rei had told each Hufflepuff to pair up with a Slytherin for this lesson. Apparently she had some stupid ideas about “collaboration between houses.”
Umemiya got Wakabayashi. By the time he’d arrived, everyone else already had partners, so there was no way out of it. Just his luck.
To add to his misery, before he even went to his seat, Professor Rei called him over to talk about his attitude. Giving him a severe look, she said that despite the remedial classes he was attending, he still wasn’t progressing as he should. She also told him off for not having tried at all in her last lesson.
“It is not acceptable, Umemiya, because it’s not that you can’t do it,” she said firmly. “You are a capable boy, but you’re just not making any effort.”
She ended with the threat of consequences if he didn’t do his best today. She would be watching.
Umemiya went to his seat, realising that Wakabayashi had been listening, the nosy bastard.
Professor Rei began the lesson by explaining that today they were to turn grasshoppers into pencils, and the class took notes on the relevant spellwork. She then went around the class with a box of grasshoppers, and each pupil took one to work upon.
On the other side of the classroom, it didn’t look as though Nao was bothered by his change of partner. He had teamed up with Miyuki, and Umemiya noticed them chatting easily together as they worked. He heard them burst into laughter at one point too, although he hadn’t been able to hear what caused it. In fact, Nao didn’t appear to be unhappy with his change of partner at all. They both turned their grasshoppers into pencils at any rate, although one still had antennae and the other chirped when it was used to write anything.
The professor had meant what she said, and checked on Umemiya throughout the lesson. Every time she wasn’t helping someone else, she was hovering nearby. Since he didn’t need any more trouble, Umemiya was forced to put up with his assigned ‘partner’ and do his best not to explode.
It was excruciating, under the sneering gaze of Wakabayashi, to painfully repeat the incantation and wand movements over-and-over-and-over.
“Dear me, maybe it would help you to look at mine?” Wakabayashi asked kindly. His voice oozed phoney sympathy, and was deceitfully raised for Rei’s benefit.
He had been idly twirling the rubber-tipped green pencil he’d produced within minutes, and he now held it up smugly.
In a lower voice, for Umemiya’s ears only, he added, “You probably didn’t see many pencils before you came here. I know you can barely write.”
“No thanks.” Umemiya answered loudly. Furiously he added under his own breath, “My writing’s just fine, and my spelling’s good too. How about this, F-U-C-K-Y-O-U.”
Sensing a momentary chance while he was distracted, the grasshopper leapt to get away.
Gritting his teeth, Umemiya quickly brought his cupped hand down to cover the escaping insect, preventing its bolt for freedom.
“You know, it’s all about the details,” Wakabayashi explained loudly. He then hissed, “Can you even read this?” As he displayed his pencil under Umemiya’s nose, turning it so he could see that ‘Wakabayashi’ was engraved in silver script along one side.
“Can you count this?” With his free hand, Umemiya stuck up his middle finger. Luckily, Rei wasn’t looking his way.
Frenzied activity and a loud chirp dragged Umemiya’s attention back to the grasshopper, and he forced himself to calm down. Taking a deep breath he tried again, willing the change to occur, as he cast the spell and touched the creature with his wand tip.
This time he felt the spell take hold, and he vaguely heard a displeased tut from Wakabayashi as the body of the grasshopper elongated and thinned into an almost perfect pencil. Only the legs to get rid of. Umemiya felt a surge of triumph and kept his focus on it, he just needed to…
Once again his sleeve fell down. It was breakfast all over again.
The half-transfigured pencil disappeared under a fold of cloth, and Umemiya lost contact with it when he jerked his arm back. As he watched numbly, the pencil leapt into the air and landed on the floor, hopping across the classroom in a series of agile bounds. It finally settled on the windowsill where it began to rub one leg against the pencil, chirping merrily. Wakabayashi roared with laughter.
Umemiya was not comforted by Professor Rei’s insistence that he had made a breakthrough. She had been pleased, saying it was the most complicated transfiguration he’d done so far and almost a complete success. Umemiya however, knew that this time he could have done it perfectly, if it wasn’t for his bloody giant robes, and Wakabayashi witnessing his wardrobe malfunction made him feel even more bitter.
He stomped into Defence Against the Dark Arts with Nao, still seething.
“I wish we had been working together, you would have done it for sure.” Nao commented as they found their places and Umemiya sat down.
Umemiya grunted sourly. Across the room, he could see Wakabayashi talking to someone near him, smugly laughing, and making his pencil jump across the desk.
“You should have seen your face when you got stuck with Wakabayashi.” Nao laughed at the memory, after seeing where he was looking, and Umemiya turned to glare at his friend.
“You seemed to be having a great time with Miyuki,” he accused.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Didn’t look as though you’d rather be with me.”
Nao’s laughter died. “Well it was a nice change in some ways,” he finally said, almost sadly.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Because he’s not crap?”
“No. Because he wasn't throwing his own pity party,” Nao snapped, losing patience.
They sat in silence for several minutes after that, until Professor Kunitomo started the lesson.
The professor explained that they were going to spend the next few lessons learning defensive spells. In preparation for this, today they were going to discuss the types of magic wizards might need to defend against. Namely: Jinxes, Hexes and Curses.
From the corner of his eye, Umemiya saw Nao stiffen and glancing at him, he realised that Nao’s hands were clenched so tightly on the arms of his chair, that his knuckles were white. He looked questioningly at his friend, but Nao was staring straight ahead, his lips thin and a set, closed look on his face. He wondered what was wrong.
“Can anyone tell me something about these types of dark charm?” The professor asked.
Several hands went up, Wakabayashi’s of course among them, but the professor chose Sanada.
“Jinxes are minor dark magic, usually irritating rather than really harmful and they can be used to defend or attack, like the Impediment Jinx or the Knockback Jinx. Hexes can be used the same way, but they’re more dangerous, like the Hurling Hex which makes a broom try to throw off its rider.” Sanada offered.
“Excellent, and nice use of examples, five points to Hufflepuff. What about curses?”
Next to Umemiya, Nao’s hand shot into the air. Professor Kunitomo looked at him, seeming to debate whether to pick him, and looking worried for some reason. “Nao?”
“Curses are the worst kind of dark magic. They are used to cause the most suffering, last the longest and are the least reversible. They can cause excruciating pain, total loss of control, severe injury and even death. The Corrodo-Tenebris Curse for example, causes living tissue to decay rapidly.”
“An accurate summary, very good.” The professor looked deeply uncomfortable as he added, “another five points to Hufflepuff,” and his voice was noticeably quieter.
Umemiya frowned, that had definitely seemed a bit weird. Beyond Nao, he could see Mei, whispering to Shirakawa, Nao however was still staring ahead, not looking at anybody. Whatever this was, it was Nao’s business. Umemiya glared at Mei, who shrugged, but stopped talking.
Professor Kunitomo was also frowning. “That’s enough chatter, let’s move on,” he said, severely.
He went on to explain that over the coming years they would learn many specific Counter-jinxes and Counter-curses; but that this year they would be learning more generally applicable defensive techniques.
Next, he outlined some of these: Salvio Hexia which would deflect hexes from an area, the Impediment Jinx (here he gave a nod to Sanada) which hindered the movement of the target, and most importantly the Shield Charm. The professor explained that the Shield Charm was essential protection for any wizard, and had increasingly powerful variants. It provided the caster with an invisible shield that could reflect most spells, and blocked physical forces.
For the last part of the lesson, the class practised using the Knockback Jinx, as they would be using the Shield Charm to defend against this in upcoming lessons. Umemiya wondered if Nao would tell him what the curse gossip was all about, but nothing was said. Concentrating on his own casting, Umemiya soon forgot about it.
After dinner that evening, Umemiya lay on his bed. He was thinking gloomily about the Quidditch practice he was missing, and envying the brooms he’d seen his roommates leaving with. Deliberately ignoring the homework piling up, he was idly considering going out to smoke, when he heard the door open, and the sound of Nao’s chair moving across the room.
"Why aren't you attending Quidditch practice? You're good at flying!"
Umemiya tensed. Was Nao really bringing this up again? At least no one else was in the dormitory at the moment, not like earlier in the common room. Nao should have known better than that, embarrassing him in front of Sanada and the others. Getting up from his sprawled position across his bed, Umemiya sat on the edge and looked across the room at his friend, his expression already darkening into a scowl.
"Is it because you can't afford a broom?"
Umemiya flinched. That was the reason, but hearing it out loud like this. Confirming that Nao knew, that everybody must know. The idea of them looking at him, knowing that…it made him wish he'd never come to Hogwarts. He stood up, wanting to get out of the room.
"Why don't you speak to Kataoka about it?"
"Already have, and I told him what I'm about to tell you."
"Oh?"
"That it's none of your business."
“What do you want, Umemiya? Do you want to be expelled? Because if you keep carrying on like this, that's what's going to happen.”
“Why do you care?”
“We’re friends.”
“Friends are we? Is that why I didn’t get any letters over the holidays?”
"I told you I couldn’t." Nao snapped. “If my mother had found out I was sending letters to a Muggle-born, you don’t have any idea what she might have done.”
Umemiya only grunted in response to this. He had thought about it some more, and if it was the other way round he definitely would have risked it. He was sure his mates from home would have too. They’d have enjoyed the thrill of it. The chance of getting caught.
To Nao, he just muttered, “yea, right.” As he abruptly turned to leave, his foot caught the hem of his massive robes. He heard the sound of fabric tearing and saw Nao cringe.
“What the fuck!” Umemiya practically screamed, “Aren’t these supposed to be magic, how can it tear?”
Nao looked reluctant for a moment, before explaining in a low voice, “Only the more expensive robes have protective properties. Yours is probably just cloth.”
“I fucking hate it here!” Umemiya growled, yanking at the torn piece, and making the hole even more noticeable. His school trousers were now on full display.
Umemiya felt his face grow red. Everyone would notice.
‘Fucking posh twats,’ he mentally spat. If they went to a school where he was from, they’d get torn to pieces. These sheltered babies. They wouldn’t last a day.
“I can probably fix that.” Nao began. “I know the spell.”
“Why bother? It looks like shit anyway.”
Nao took a deep breath, “Look Umemiya, I understand that -”
“Save me the fucking lecture, Nao!” Umemiya yelled, “No, you don’t understand. Yea, I get that your family sucks or whatever. But at least they’re wizards! People aren't talking about you all the time. About how poor and stupid you are. About how shit all your stuff is. I bet you could get a broom whenever you want -” He cut himself off, suddenly realising the implication of his words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“I do have a broom. I used to be able to fly on it.”
“Nao, you know I didn't mean it like that.”
"You just meant that if I could still fly, then I could afford one. Yea. Lucky me."
Umemiya wanted to speak, but no words came out of his mouth.
Instead, Nao continued furiously, “I don't know what it's like to have people talking about me?!" He laughed, and it was bitter and cold. "I get that your family is poor 'or whatever’," Nao spat Umemiya's own words back at him, "but you don’t understand anything, Umemiya.”
Umemiya looked at him, half-angry, half-regretful.
Finally, Nao broke the silence.
“Leave,” he commanded, his tone icy, “before I lose what little patience I have left with you.”
Umemiya stormed out of the building, and set off across the grass in the gathering twilight. He needed to walk.
‘Shit,’ he thought, ramming his hands deep into his pockets as he strode in the direction of the lake, ‘shit, shit, shit.’
Umemiya hadn’t meant to say that to Nao. Hadn’t been thinking about him at all really. Definitely hadn’t meant to say that flying was harder for him than it was for Nao. ‘He must know that? Right?’
Umemiya paused for a moment, scowling, as he thought back over the argument. Maybe he shouldn’t have made that comment, about Nao being able to afford a broom, but then again…
It wasn't his fault they were fighting.
Nao was the one who had started the argument in the first place. Nao had found Umemiya again, just to have a go at him. Nao was sticking his nose in Umemiya’s business, not the other way around.
‘Yea!’ Umemiya thought self-righteously, ‘if anyone has a right to feel angry, it’s me.’
Muttering to himself as he resumed walking, Umemiya stoked his anger. ‘Fucking cheek… talking shit about my life. Like it’s no big deal and I’m just making a stupid fuss. I bet he’s been thinking it this whole time. He hasn’t got a fucking clue what it’s like. Then he tells me to leave!’
With a bitter snort, he thought again about the lack of contact over the summer. They’d obviously not been as good friends as he’d thought at the end of last year anyway. Like he cared.
Furious, he stalked rapidly around the far end of the lake towards his usual spot among the trees; his breathing coming fast and hard as fury and misery almost overwhelmed him.
It was pretty dark now, but moonlight bathed the grounds, and the surface of the lake shone faintly. Umemiya wanted to smoke, but he could still be seen out in the open. He needed to get out of sight. Reaching the darkened area beneath the first trees, he pulled out his cigarettes and lit up. He took a drag and sighed, before heading through the concealing gloom to his usual spot.
Rounding a tree, he stopped abruptly. That first year was sitting there again. In his spot.
‘What was he doing out here?’
Umemiya frowned down at the pale face of the kid, which was now turning towards him. Moonlight fell across him as he stared up, and he almost looked like a ghost, he was so white.
He’d been crying. Wet, startled eyes gazed up at Umemiya in shock, while tear tracks and a runny nose shone silver as the moon exposed him.
“What’s up with you?” Umemiya asked, bluntly.
“Nothing.” The response was angry, and clearly embarrassed, he turned his face away, surreptitiously wiping at his eyes and nose with his sleeve.
Umemiya eyed him. He had his own problems to deal with, but the kid was crying. “Want a smoke?” He offered, charitably.
“No. Go away!” Mukai shot him a disdainful look.
‘Well, fuck you then.’ Umemiya thought, before saying, “Listen...Mukai isn’t it? This is my spot.”
Mukai’s voice took on a sharper edge. “I was here first.”
“Well I’m here now, so you can leave. Find somewhere else to cry.”
Mukai shot him a furious glare and struggled to his feet. “I was not crying. Mind your own business, you filthy oaf. And if you don’t leave, I’ll…I’ll report you for smoking.”
“Listen, you little shit - ”
“Just get lost, Mudblood.”
‘Mudblood!’
Umemiya knew that word.
Nao had told him what it meant last year. The other Hufflepuff first-years had been gossiping about a huge fight that had taken place between Kuramochi and Wakabayashi, and the terrible things that Wakabayashi had said. Nao had explained to Umemiya that some people thought that Muggle blood was dirty. They thought that half-bloods like Kuramochi were ‘blood-traitors’ who had contaminated their magical blood, and that Muggle-borns like him were even worse. ‘Mudblood’, he then explained, was the vilest possible thing someone could call a Muggle-born. So if anyone, especially Wakabayashi, ever dared to say this to Umemiya, he should blast them with the nastiest spell he knew.
Well, clearly Mukai was just like fucking Wakabayashi. At this thought, all of Umemiya’s rage boiled up to the surface in an instant.
Dropping the still-lit cigarette, Umemiya grabbed Mukai by the front of his robes, hauling him up on tiptoe, and raising his fist to punch.
“What did you call me?!” He snarled into the pale upturned face, only inches from his own.
Mukai flinched back from that raised fist with a pitiful whimper…
…and the look in his eyes.
Umemiya stared into them for a long moment…
…and let him go.
Mukai stumbled backwards. All bravado gone, he looked small and vulnerable. For a shocked instant he stared at Umemiya, and then he took off, running back towards the school.
Stooping on instinct, to pick up the now smouldering cigarette, Umemiya sat slowly down and leant against the tree. Mukai had been terrified of him.
Like Umemiya was the same as whoever had made him cry.
His anger died, and he looked almost blankly at the glowing tip, before grinding it into the mud at his side, extinguishing and destroying it. Then he looked out over the water and began to think.
What was he doing? He didn’t want to be someone like that.
He wasn’t someone like that.
…Was he?
As he looked back over the past few months, Umemiya gradually began to feel uncomfortable.
Stuff had been difficult, he told himself. Going home with everything so awkward around his family and friends. Like he was butting in and no one needed him to be there.
It had got better though, he reassured himself, it had been okay once he joined in more. They’d hung out and had a laugh loads of times. Except… he remembered that some of those times, it hadn't been fun at all.
A particular occasion jumped into his mind. One he’d felt bad about a few times since, though he’d hastily pushed the memory away every time it came.
It happened near the train station in Manchester. A kid about their age had walked past, and bumped into someone in Umemiya’s group. No-one’s fault really, and the kid had apologised. He’d sounded posh though, and the next minute the whole group started imitating him - just like they’d done to Umemiya at first.
This time it hadn’t stopped there though, it had gotten nastier - with some pushing and shoving. Then, one of the boys Umemiya had only met a few weeks before, said the kid had to hand over his money. Everyone else joined in, and Umemiya hadn’t said anything, even though he’d hated it. He’d just stood there and watched.
Afterwards, it became a big joke. They got an older boy to buy them a few packs of Marlboro and some Cokes with the money. Umemiya had even shared the stuff. But he hadn’t felt good about it, and he still remembered the look in that kid's eyes.
He’d seen it again tonight.
‘What else was I supposed to do?’ Umemiya thought savagely to himself. ‘Hang around on my own?’
It wasn’t like Nao had been around instead, or had even contacted him. Sighing, he thought about Nao. About how well they’d gotten on in the first year. How pleased Nao had been to see him again, on the train when they came back to school.
But then things had started to change.
Umemiya thought again about Nao saying his family was poor, like he got it. He snorted. Nao hardly knew anything about Umemiya’s family!
Except…
Well, he hadn’t explained, and he didn’t really know anything about Nao’s either did he? He hadn’t asked.
He’d known Nao had problems with his family, but he’d figured they weren’t that big of a deal. Umemiya remembered the whispering and staring in class earlier, and winced internally. He should have asked.
He thought about the other arguments they’d been having lately. What was Nao’s problem?
All that nagging about getting expelled and not going to Quidditch practice? It didn’t affect him. So why did he care?
Umemiya thought about that for a while. ‘Yeah, why did he care?’
Eventually, he let out a long, slow breath and got up, heading round the lake towards the school.
It wasn’t going to be pleasant, but he needed to talk to Nao. Right now.
He’d been behaving like a total dick.
Umemiya headed back to his dormitory, hoping Nao would still be there. Luckily, with it being a Quidditch practice evening, their roommates were out, and they should still have a bit of time alone. They needed to talk.
Walking in, he found to his relief that Nao was still in the room where he had left him. His friend had wheeled his chair over to the window, and was just sitting there. His elbow was propped on the arm of his chair, and his head rested on his hand, as he looked up at the sky. He appeared to have been thinking, and not happy thoughts, if his face as he turned towards Umemiya was any indication.
Umemiya took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Nao's. "Just listen, yeah?" He raised his hands, palms out, as if pushing back on the tension in the room. "I've been acting like a complete twat.”
Nao eyed him cautiously, saying nothing.
"So yeah, I'm sorry. Really sorry," Umemiya said, sincerity roughening his voice. “Also, I should never have said that thing about the broom.”
“That wasn’t what really bothered me,” Nao said eventually. “It was what you said about my family. You implied that they weren’t that bad. That they just ‘sucked’ or whatever.”
Umemiya nodded, "I don't know what’s been going on with you or your family, and that's on me. Never bothered asking, did I?”
Nao raised an eyebrow, but waited for him to continue.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, but whatever it is they’ve done I’m sure -” Umemiya tried to explain, but Nao cut him off.
"My dad murdered a Muggle."
The words hung in the air for a shocked, silent moment.
“Oh shit.” Umemiya's voice dropped in disbelief.
“Yea.” Nao began, choosing each word carefully. "An old woman. She and her husband, who was a wizard, co-owned a small bakery in Diagon Alley. When he died, she kept running it. It became the first entirely Muggle-owned shop in the UK."
Umemiya's eyes widened, and he was visibly unsettled.
"My father broke into her home, and killed her,” Nao continued, bitterness and disgust seeping into his words. “He tortured her first. Then left the body strung up as a warning to other Muggles in the area.”
"Fuck…" Umemiya exhaled, horror etched across his face.
Nao nodded grimly, "When the Aurors - that’s the wizarding police - came to apprehend him, he resisted. I heard the shouts and ran out, just in time for one of his stray curses to hit me. Straight in the back.”
A heavy silence followed.
"The Aurors managed to prevent the curse from killing me," Nao added softly, “but they couldn’t reverse all the damage. That’s why I can’t walk.”
"Is there really no magical way to - " Umemiya's voice trailed off, regretting the question as soon as the words left his mouth.
“No.” Nao responded, with a resigned sigh. “Magic can fix most Muggle injuries, but not all magical ones. The Corrodo-Tenebris Curse has a particularly corrosive nature; it permanently dissolved a cluster of my nerves.”
Umemiya felt as if he was going to be sick, as he groped about for words, "I can't even begin to imagine-”
"I love Quidditch," Nao interjected, quietly. "I used to fly all the time. Dreamed of making the team at Hogwarts. But because of him, I never will. And yet my mother is still proud of him ‘taking a stand’.”
There was a long silence.
Eventually, Umemiya said, in a quiet voice, “your family sucks.”
“...or whatever?”
They both laughed a little.
Then Nao levelled a serious gaze at Umemiya before asking, "So what about your family?"
Umemiya blinked, a blank expression on his face for a moment before he answered, "They're alright, I guess."
“Oh?” Nao said, giving Umemiya a hard look.
"Yeah, well, my dad hasn't killed anyone. I’ve had a smacked arse a few times for being mouthy, but that’s it."
“Your dad doesn’t have to be a murderer for you to have family problems.” Nao said, grinning.
Umemiya eyed Nao sceptically, sighed, and said, “I dunno. They just don’t really… care about Hogwarts? That sounds stupid.”
“No it doesn’t.”
At a nod from Nao, Umemiya continued slowly, “I’ve got this whole other life here, but I can’t tell my friends about it, and my family aren’t really interested. And then, when I’m actually at Hogwarts…” Umemiya paused, searching for the right words. "It's different being poor, when everyone else around you is too. I'm not one of the poorest people I know. Not even close. Some of the kids at my old school…" Umemiya's voice trailed off before he continued, "I don't know. At Hogwarts, it's like I'm just some stupid chav. Like everyone's looking down on me. But when I'm back home, I'm suddenly this posh boarding school kid."
Nao thought for a moment, before responding, “next time you see them, tell them you’re friends with someone whose dad is a murderer.”
“What?!”
“I’m serious. You can tell them he crippled me too. That should make Hogwarts seem less posh.”
"I'm not going to do that!" Umemiya replied, clearly taken aback.
"Why not? Someone should get something out of it," Nao said, a note of weary irony in his voice.
Umemiya finally relinquished a brief laugh, before venturing softly, “I wish you could come and stay with me.”
“Yea, me too.” Nao sighed, “But my mother’s as bad as my father is. You know she blames the Aurors for what happened to me.”
“You could lie about where you are?”
“If she found out where I was, she’d kill you. Not figuratively.”
"Alright, yeah. I see why you couldn’t send me any letters." Umemiya paused, and then added softly, "I really missed you, y'know."
“Yea,” Nao said, “I missed you too.”
They exchanged a brief glance, sharing a small smile. Then Nao shifted the conversation and asked, "so, are you going to play Quidditch again?"
“Yea,” Umemiya said, before groaning, “I guess I better apologise to Kataoka. I wonder if he’ll even let me play again.”
“He definitely will. He’s got a bit of a soft spot for you.”
“Really! Do you think so?” Umemiya couldn’t hide the delight on his face.
Nao burst out laughing, “You're blushing!”
“Shut up, I am not!” Umemiya said, hiding his face. Although from his tone, he was still obviously grinning.
“Also…” Nao began, consideringly, “let me know next time you’re training outside of practice, and I’ll come with you. I used to be really good at flying, and I bet I could help. And if not, I can always lob balls for you.”
Umemiya beamed, “that would be great.” Then a sudden thought struck him, “speaking of Quidditch…”
He reached down into his robes and pulled out the packet of cigarettes, “I should probably quit if I’m going to start training again.” He looked inside the packet, “I only have four left anyway.”
Curiously, Nao reached out, “Let me see?”
Slightly taken aback, Umemiya hesitated for a second. A confused expression played across his face as he handed over the cigarette packet. Without missing a beat, Nao smoothly plucked a single cigarette from the pack. With a flourish, he withdrew his wand and softly whispered, “Incendio,” igniting the tip. Umemiya cringed inwardly, embarrassed that using a spell to light his cigarettes hadn’t even occurred to him. He’d been using a lighter.
“Are you really going to smoke that?” Umemiya asked incredulously, “after the earful you’ve been giving me?”
Nao shrugged, “I’m only going to try one.” He turned to Umemiya and smirked, “my mother would go berserk if she knew I’d smoked a Muggle cigarette.”
At this Umemiya grinned, “alright then, enjoy the experience.”
Nao nodded, inhaling smoothly for a few seconds, before his face immediately morphed into a shade of green. The cigarette dropped from his lips as he descended into a fit of coughing. Gasping for breath, he croaked, “that is utterly revolting.”
Umemiya laughed loudly, moving to stomp out the cigarette. At the same time, a coughing Nao pointed his wand, and managed to wheeze, "Aguamenti!" A small stream of water shot out, dousing the cigarette…and Umemiya’s shoes.
Umemiya looked at his wet shoes, and then back up, slightly taken aback. "Oh yeah... magic."
The two locked eyes. There was a beat of silence, and then they both erupted into uncontrollable laughter.
Deciding not to put it off, Umemiya waited for Professor Kataoka in the supply cabin, after practice that very evening.
When Kataoka arrived with several pupils carrying numbered bags, he noticed Umemiya immediately, and indicated he should wait. Once he had ensured that everything was put carefully away and dismissed the others, he finally turned to Umemiya.
He scrutinised Umemiya’s face, assessing him, as he waited to hear what he had to say.
“I’m really sorry,” Umemiya blurted, “and I want to come back… if you’ll let me?”
Kataoka surveyed him, nodding slowly, “I will. But there will be conditions, Umemiya.”
"I'll do whatever it takes to earn my place. Even if it's just supporting the other players, I want to show you I'm serious," Umemiya stated determinedly.
"Hmm..." Kataoka considered him thoughtfully, and then lifted a fold of Umemiya’s sleeve, sniffing meaningfully. "Are you still smoking?"
"No," Umemiya responded truthfully. “I’ve thrown them away.”
"How many cigarettes did you smoke while at Hogwarts?"
"Sixteen."
"Then, for the next sixteen days, I want you to take charge of ensuring that the Quidditch cabin is spotless. Every morning, before breakfast, I want you to tidy and organise the cabin, preparing it for the day ahead. I will create a designated spot in the ledger for you to sign your name, so I can check that you have completed this task."
"I can do that," Umemiya said resolutely.
"As long as you consistently fulfil this responsibility, I see no problem with you joining tomorrow's practice. Though I will expect you to train hard to catch up."
“Really?!” Umemiya's excitement was unmistakable. “I can start tomorrow?”
“Yes.” There was a pause, and then the professor added, “Additionally, you are still welcome to borrow equipment, so you can practise in your own time as much as you like."
"Thank you, Professor Kataoka! I promise I won't let you down."
As he walked back up to school, Umemiya felt lighter than he had in weeks, despite his bulky robes. He hurried towards the common room to meet up with Nao as arranged, together, they had an essay on hexes to complete.
Finally, he was back in the game.