Chapter Text
Jisung was flying.
Below he could hear the roar of the crowd cheering him on. He glanced down to see the multicolored rows of tiny heads and fluttering scarves. At this distance, he was boosted by the voices. Rather than overwhelming him, like they would have if he'd been amongst the throng, they lifted him up and added to the thrill of the match.
Up here in the clouds, with the winds whipping through his robes and messing up his hair, he felt free and powerful, able to face any challenge thrown his way. And the challenge on this day happened to be an particularly stubborn bludger.
"Watch your left!" A yell reached Jisung over the wind just in time for him to react and swing his broom away from the heavy object hurtling past. He stuck out a hand in thanks towards the voice that had warned him, probably their beater Changbin, and flew up even higher to try to get a glimpse of gold among the chaos.
As Gryffindor's seeker, normally the snitch was Jisung's main focus during the Quidditch match, and he would instinctively flow around the other players and flying projectiles that came his way. Today however, this bludger just wouldn't leave him alone, and was getting on his nerves.
"Feeling distracted, are we?" Another voice reached him this time, suprisingly close to his right. Jisung turned his head to see the Slytherin seeker Minho smirking down at him. The older boy's dark eyes glittered with mischief. "My little friends are fiesty today, you should be careful."
Jisung rolled his eyes. He hadn't talked to the older boy much, he was 2 years ahead of him at Hogwarts, but he had heard that Minho was a bit weird.
"Your 'little friends' are nothing!" Jisung shouted back. He adjusted his grip on his broom and flew forward, scanning the air as he went.
Suddenly he saw a flash and there it was, right in front of his nose. The tiny golden ball with delicate wings. The snitch!
Jisung reach out his hand to grab the snitch from the air but a body collided with him hard and almost knocked him from his broom. Minho had actually tackled him in midair! Both boys tumbled downwards for a second, before they managed to right themselves, elbows knocking together.
Growling in frustation, Jisung aimed a kick at the older boy, connecting with nothing but air and... giggles? Was Minho laughing right now?
"Your eyes got all crossed," Minho called, "that was cute!" And away he flew, leaving Jisung feeling stunned and strangely dizzy.
"Pay attention!" Oops, that was definitely Changbin, reminding him they were still in the middle of a match.
Jisung shook his head and tried to get his focus back. Seeing the flash of gold again, further away now, he set his jaw and zoomed towards it as fast as he could. They couldn't have much time left, and he didn't want to have any more slipups.
The roar of the crowd got louder as Jisung got close to the snitch again. He glance back and saw that Minho was right on the tail of his broom, his earlier grin gone and his face set in a cold determination. Good, he was finally taking this seriously.
Jisung turned his focus back to the snitch and reached out his hand, getting ready to grasp the tiny gold object. He heard the screams below rise higher in pitch, and he smirked to himself. They were going to win!
Jisung's hand suddenly exploded with pain and he was plummeting to the ground. He was spinning hopelessly and he didn't have a sense of what on earth had just happened. Panic took over and he shut his eyes tightly, his mind overcome with white static.
He braced himself for the impact of the ground, and felt his fall jar to a stop, but the pain didn't come. He cracked open an eye and saw the grass of the quidditch pitch just a foot below. Someone had thankfully stopped his fall with a spell.
Jisung reached out his good hand to clutch the grass of the quidditch pitch and he crumpled to the ground with a thud. He curled up with a groan. His heart couldn't take any more of these sudden drops. The pounding in his ears slowly subsided enough to let him hear the clamour of voices shouting and crowding in.
Great, he'd been saved from one of his fears just to be thrust into the other. Jisung stared up at the sky, willing them all to leave him alone.
"STEP BACK, LET HIM BREATHE!!" A deep voice bellowed and the crush of people eased away slightly. A delicate face with shining eyes, not at all matching with the voice it had produced, appeared at the end of Jisung's tunnel vision.
"Felix, my hand... it..." Jisung whispered.
"I know, let's get you to the infirmary. It'll be okay." Felix grasped Jisung's arms and lifted him up to a standing position, his small hands disguising his surprisingly strong grip.
The Hufflepuff boy had some Veela heritage, shown in his fae-like features and white-gold hair, but he didn't like to talk about it much. He worried about standing out from his friends. Jisung didn't care either way, all that mattered was that Felix was the kindest person he knew.
The two boys walked across the pitch, the crowd parting for them as they went. Jisung put his head down and ignored the stares and whispers. He heard cheers on the other side of the pitch. The Slytherin team had obviously won the match.
"Congratulations on not dying!" A loud voice startled Jisung and he flinched into Felix before he realized it was only Changbin. His dark-haired teammate flung his arm around Jisung's shoulder and weighed him down.
"Changbin, be careful of his hand," Felix scolded, unsuccessfully holding back a smile.
"His legs are fine, he can carry me, I'm exhausted!" Changbin whined.
"You're too heavy," Jisung retorted. "You've got to cut down on all those extra helpings of pudding."
"It's all muscle, that's why it's heavy!" Changbin gasped. He wrapped his arms around Jisung's chest and his legs went limp, forcing Jisung to drag him across the grass for a few steps. The three boys continued with their lighthearted bickering all the way to the infirmary. Jisung grinned, appreciating the distraction from the throbbing in his hand and the disappointment at losing the first match of the year.
Madam Pomfrey was bustling around the hospital wing as usual, briskly checking beds and shooing away students who had overstayed their welcome. She glanced over the boys and waved a hand to one of the empty beds, too busy to speak.
While they waited, the boys discussed the events of the quidditch match.
"I was watching from the stands, you were doing some serious aerial acrobatics to get away from those bludgers!" Felix said excitedly. He waved his hands around, imitating the chaos he had witnessed. "It's like they had extra energy to day."
"I'm sorry mate," Changbin said quietly. "It was my job to keep them away from you, but I couldn't stop that one from wrecking your hand."
"It wasn't your fault!" Jisung insisted. He was honestly trying to avoid looking at the damage to his hand right now, so he moved on. "I was doing fine, but that Slytherin seeker kept getting in my face!"
"Yeah, who does he think he is?!" Changbin was back to his normal boisterous volume.
Felix piped up, "Minho's in seventh year, he kind of keeps to himself. He never played quidditch before this year, but he tried out for seeker and apparently he's a genius at flying!"
Changbin narrowed his eyes. "So he's magically a pro quidditch player, getting the hardest position on the team out of nowhere? Doesn't sound suspicious at all!"
The older boy poked Jisung hard in the chest, causing him to squeak in protest. "And now it looks like he's got it in for you."
"For some reason..." Jisung grumbled, rubbing the painful spot. "He called the bludgers his 'friends' and he was laughing like a maniac."
Felix's eyes went wide. "Do you think he was controlling them somehow to mess with you?"
"I dunno but I'm going to watch my back."