Chapter Text
Quidditch truly is a brutish sport. Savage even. Most games, despite how “clean” they’re played, still end with players usually maimed or seriously injured. Between the various broom accidents and rough plays; the concussions, broken bones, and even the occasional curse, it’s all really just testosterone-filled roughhousing disguised as a game, evident from the fact that there’s even a position called a beater.
So naturally it is not something two high end English diplomats want their daughter to be doing. Engaging in such conduct would hardly keep up appearances.
That being said, any good witch or wizard knows how to fly. It’s a staple of magic etiquette and Beatrice of course isn’t one to be bad at things, so it’s unsurprising to her that she’s a fast and decent flyer. Her speed and precision have nothing to do with Quidditch after all.
Ava, however, disagrees.
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The thing you have to understand about Lilith and Mary, no matter how much Ava enjoys them –and how much they may secretly enjoy her– is that they are both an absolute pain in the ass. Different kinds of pains, but pains nonetheless.
Among the two, Mary was a little easier to get to know. Ava’s first year at Hogwarts as a muggle born had been a little overwhelming to say the least and while her house-mates had been accommodating and gracious, Mary had ultimately been the one who became her rock. Mary was the one to catch her crying in the girls dormitory, the one who gave her just the right amount of tough love, the one who was kind, but exuded strength, the one who showed her how being muggle born didn't make her any less of a witch, the one who took Ava in over the summer in her third year when she found out she had been bumming her way around Europe, the one who inspired Ava to face the challenges that came with having no previous magical insight. Ava wasn’t the best witch of her year after all, that position was of course awarded to Beatrice, but seeing how Mary, someone who also came from non-magical parents succeeded, gave her the motivation to prove herself.
Lilith on the other hand, she had been more complicated. Just as hard around the edges as Mary but a little less willing to give. Lilith was much more certain in what made a good witch, and therefore more certain in herself. She was colder, but only by the nature of her precision.
Beatrice had sworn that Lilith was a kind and loving person, and that Ava just had to be herself: persistent. Bea of course had been right; Lilith had eventually come around to Ava, even if she refused to admit it. She, as Slytherin Prefect of course, supervised more than one of Ava’s detentions and through their time together she had come to know Ava beyond the girl she had seen in matches. Ultimately though it was thanks to Mary that two really became close. Tired of her two friends' constant bickering, Mary had locked them in a dungeon with a boggart to “inspire them to work through their differences.” No one, save for the two girls, is sure what exactly went down but they had emerged relatively unscathed with a new found respect for one another and a tentative truce as they both chased Mary through the halls trying to leg-lock curse her.
However, friendship aside, being a year their junior put Ava in a difficult position. Both Lilith and Mary were incredible Quidditch players and ever since she’d been at Hogwarts, Hufflepuff had never once won the Quidditch cup. A fact Mary and Lilith sure never shut up about it.
Shannon, Mary’s girlfriend, was more gracious than the duo. She knew exactly how and when to reel Mary back in. Maybe it was a Gryffindor trait, or maybe it was Shannon’s innate ability to read a room, either way Ava appreciated her ability to distract her girlfriend and to curb Lilith’s temper.
Unfortunately for Ava, it’s the two Slytherins’ –and the one Gryffindor’s– last year before graduation, meaning it’s her last year to prove to all of them that Hufflepuff, with them as their opponent, can take the championship. The universe however keeps refusing to give her a god damn break, as her team is short a seeker.
“Maybe the usual recruits got a lot better over summer?” Camila offered.
“Ughhh” Ava dropped her face against the table dramatically, letting the thud get lost in the noise of the Great Hall “I understand that JC is cute and all, and don’t get me wrong he is, but if i have to sit through one more attempt of him claiming to be the next best Seeker I’ll cry.”
Beside her, Camila was resting her head in her hand “I don’t know what else we can do. We're short one player. Ground rules aside, if we want to have the slightest chance against Slytherin or Gryffindor this year we are in desperate need of a good seeker.”
“I know,” grumbled Ava, arms flung forward on the table before her. “I can't stand to see the look on Lilith's face again if Crimson catches another snitch.”
“I think she just likes the whole winning thing. I’m pretty sure she still hates Crimson… if that helps…”
Ava let out another groan, fully talking into the table at this point “It doesn’t matter how many goals I stop, we can't win without a better Seeker. It's too valuable a position.”
“Maybe someone new will try-out?” Camila put her hand gently on Ava’s shoulder
“Who?” Ava sat up a little too fast, forcing Camila to dodge backwards “We know all the current decent fliers, and I've already tried to scout 2nd years. No one quite has what we need. At this point if some god-level seeker just magically fell out of the sky, I think I'd kiss them on the damn mouth.”
Diagonally across the table sat Beatrice, appearing absolutely unfazed by the conversation, minus the way she never once seemed to flip the pages of her book.
Camila gave a small smile “I don’t know, but I think things will work out, one way or another…”
———————————— ~ ————————————
At Hogwarts flying classes are only a requirement for first years. It ensures that muggle-borns get a fair chance at learning to fly, while exposing them to the sport in the context of their peers. It’s safe and monitored, and it’s where Ava absolutely fell in love with the sport. Beatrice, however, had been excused from the elective. The amount of extracurriculars she was already taking and her ability to test out of the requirement left her no need to take part in such activities.
It’s not that Beatrice disliked flying, quite the opposite actually. She enjoyed the wind on her face, and the feeling of shared control over the broom and her movements. Overall it was a pleasant experience. But flying was to her parents merely a mode of transportation, one not often taken once the individual mastered apparition. Therefore, once mastered, it was only to be used in rare capacity. So while most of her peers were taking an easy and fun elective, Beatrice found herself in tertiary language courses and other various advanced electives, ensuring her usefulness to her family.
That being said, Beatrice was not one to turn down the request of a professor —any professor frankly— especially not one she admired. So when Mother Superion requested her aid in calibrating the school’s Quidditch equipment she simply asked what time.
Calibrating magical equipment was relatively up her alley. It entailed assessing enchantments and then comparing them to the standards of the provided regulations, something she had often done before to check her own work. In more complicated spells, or items with layers of spells enchanting them, it would require reviewing the order of what spells were applied, and seeing how the spells affected any magical essence the object had held beforehand. In this case it meant checking to see if the school equipment was not only enchanted to the correct standards, but checking to see if any new enchantments had been added. However, since calibration occurs before each Quidditch season (although usually over summer) it meant re-assessment rather than starting from scratch, which somewhat quickens the process.
Mother Superion was leading the calibration effort, whereas Beatrice was operating more as a second wand and retrieval, but she didn’t particularly mind. Everything was running efficiently. It was the first weekend since school had started and they were on track to finish before the morning fog would lift, meaning she would still have time to study before her friends could find and distract her.
The last item on the list to inspect was the snitch.
“I’ve completed the last identification spell. Everything seems to be fine, we just need to conduct some test releases and track how erratically it moves.” Beatrice nodded along as Mother Superion spoke “We’ll have you conduct some basic drills in the sky, and see how often it shows up.”
“I understand.”
“Best method is for you to attempt to catch it. If we don’t replicate a real game situation, it’ll take longer to assess its movements, so… make it count.”
Beatrice flew up to just above the goalposts on one side of the field looking over the rest of the pitch and waited for a brief moment, assessing her range of precise vision and the effects of the morning fog.
Below Mother Superion blew a whistle as she released the golden snitch. It zipped out of her hand up into the sky out of sight.
Beatrice waited. She took a deep breath and watched.
With no others to distract her, she felt the best method would be to cover a wide view and wait to be baited out. The morning fog still covered most of the field below her, but the sky, though grey, was mostly clear. She slowly worked her vision from one side of the field to the other and back. After assessing the absence of movement, She gave a small nod.
And then she shot into action.
Flying as fast as she could she pulled her broom towards herself, flipping herself backward 270 degrees until she was shooting straight down towards the pitch.
The flip had given her a view above and behind her, clearing both spaces. As she flew back down towards the ground, she entered the low lying fog and pulled up even to the ground, back to the direction she was facing before. The speed at which she came to a halt came with some wind billowing the fog around her a bit. Then as she waited for just a moment, she saw across the pitch a few glints of gold.
As if using the lingering fog for cover, the snitch was remaining low, zipping through the mist. The fog wasn’t thick enough to fully hide it, but its reflections helped to make it appear as if it was in multiple places.
Upon seeing the reflection, Beatrice stalled. She watched as it zipped chaotically, glinting and reflecting across the space. The light bounced across the mist, confusing its direction. It would appear to move left, only to reflect to the right a moment later.
Calculating its movements was near impossible, but Beatrice had an idea
“Alright then”
And she was off, zooming towards the gold reflection. It whipped to the left, moving in impossible zig-zag formations. Beatrice kept her turns wide, favoring tracking the reflection, rather than closing the distance, as its movements didn’t always match its actual placement. After a few minutes of wide-birthed chase, she narrowed her eyes, and leaned in close to her broom and took more direct action.
As if it could feel her closing in it moved more erratically, zipping left and right. Beatrice dragged her broom to each side, matching its course until it abruptly dropped, speeding just along the ground. Dragging along the grass, it flung water up into Beatrice’s face. She tilted her face away so that only one side would receive the flicks of mud and water, and continued to close in. Just as her hand was about to grasp it, it shot upward, darting passed her face straight into the sky. In an instant, Beatrice tugged her broom upward again, dragging the bristles on the ground. Just as it made it level to the bottom hoop, Beatrice grasped it in her hand.
With the snitch caught she slowed to a stop.
“hoLY SHIT”
Beatrice nearly fell off her broom in surprise.
“Oh my fucking god Bea, that upward drag was fucking amazing! You’re beautiful up there!”
Retract that first statement, that nearly made Beatrice fall off her broom. “Ava.” Beatrice smoothly touched down to the ground, pulling her broom up beside her “What are you doing out here?”
“I was coming out to the pitch to track down Momma S. and get a few drills in to clear my head.” Ava was beaming at her, dressed in her typical practice gear, “I didn’t expect to see you out here.”
“Neither did I you” Beatrice felt the corners of her mouth lifting.
“Silva, what do we owe the pleasure?” Mother Superion asked, her voice sounding noticeably absent of any presupposed pleasure.
“Ay Mamma S. Just who I was looking for!” Ava was unperturbed, rocking back and forth on her feet casually “I was hoping to ask if Hufflepuff could swap with Ravenclaw’s booked pitch time tomorrow. Their captain already said it was fine, but they said to run the change by you.”
Mother Superion gave a stiff nod, choosing to ignore the nickname “I’ll adjust the schedule, but keep the changes to a minimum this year” then turning to Beatrice, “I believe we’re done here.” Mother Superion flicked her cane and tapped it against the chest that held all the quidditch equipment. The snitch, lightly being held in Beatrice’s hand, zipped out of her grasp back to its position in the chest. “Your assistance this morning is appreciated, 5 points to Hufflepuff for your hard work. And..” she paused, giving Beatrice a considering look “5 points for the flying demonstration.”
“Thank you professor.” Beatrice gave a little bow to hide her blush. She had always appreciated the directness that Mother Superion used. She never minced words, favoring a more strict approach. And given Beatrice's unique situation, she aways felt a combination of debt and gratitude to the older woman. Still, it was beyond rare to receive any points from her.
With that, Mother Superion gave another nod and made her exit. Beatrice turned back to Ava, “You really ought to stop calling her that.”
“Are you kidding?” Ava hadn’t lost her smile “She doesn’t even tell me to stop anymore. I think she secretly likes it. She even agreed to let me switch times. Last year she wouldn’t let me change anything on the schedule even if I had good reason.”
“I’m not sure I believe you had good reasons.” Beatrice couldn’t help the way her lips stayed upturned. Ava just had that effect on her. She had a way of making everything seem so easy and light.
“Rude!” Ava laughed, but supplied no response. She just leaned forward, broom in hand, looking at Beatrice with a warm look. The air around them seemed to still, as if the outside world had taken just the slightest moment to catch its breath. Like the smallest exchange between them deserved a double take.
Beatrice realized after a beat that the conversation had stalled, and that she was just staring at Ava. “Right. Well then, I really should be getting back to the castle. I still have some morning studying to get in before breakfast.”
“Woah woah woah,” Ava grabbed Bea’s arm as she turned to leave. Beatrice froze at the contact but didn’t pull away, meeting Ava’s eyes without upset. “I want to see more of what you can do. I feel like I interrupted you up there and– wait before you object,” Ava flashed her trademark grin “it’s only the first week so you can’t possibly have that much studying to do yet. Besides,” she used her other hand to wipe some flicks of mud off of Beatrice’s face “it looked like you were having fun.”
Beatrice very much disagreed with the point about her workload but she found herself hesitating. Had she been having fun? Maybe a little.
As if she could sense it, Ava’s eyes seemed to shine. Releasing Beatrice’s arm but never breaking eye-contact, she swung one leg over her broom and touched off from the ground. Gently floating, her entire body exuding comfort “Come onnnn Beatrice.” Ava was now intentionally pouting “Fly with me?”
It was an offer Beatrice wasn’t sure she’d find tempting from anyone else, but Ava always seemed to have that effect on her. Just as she let out a breath of resignation, the pair were interrupted.
“I’m pretty sure Slytherin reserved the pitch this morning” came a voice from behind the pair.
Ava rolled her eyes “Only one person I know could ask a question with that much certainty of the answer in their voice.” Still hovering above the ground, she turned to face Lilith.
“And only one person I know would be here outside of their assigned hours.” Mary cut in, her broom relaxed causally against her left shoulder.
Ava stuck out her tongue at that, landing with more power than grace.
“Hey Beatrice,” Mary greeted her “Finally letting someone talk you into playing?”
Beatrice could laugh at the idea, letting just a bit of mirth display on her face, “Just getting some morning air” she answered, missing the side-eye Ava was giving her.
“Well regardless, Lilith’s right. We booked the pitch for today for some returning member training before try-outs.” Mary let the tip of the broom fall from the crook of her neck, allowing the broom to float evenly at her side parallel to the ground. Her teammates could be seen arriving onto the field in the background.
“Something I imagine your team could use, Ava.” Lilith didn’t hide her condescension.
“Oh just you wait and see! I’ll stop every single goal you try to make this year!” Ava quipped back
“Won’t you have to make it to the end of a game first?” Lilith’s arms were crossed, she looked smug
“oOH YOU–”
“Hey! Both of you knock it off or I’ll find another Boggart.” Mary interrupted.
Ava and Liltih both whipped around to face Mary,
“You wouldn’t dare-”
“If you even think about it–”
“Well then,” Beatrice tactfully interrupted. She enjoyed seeing her friends, but this conversation was one she had heard before, and she really did have better things to do than listen to them bicker about quidditch. “I best be heading back,” Beatrice offered before retreating to the castle.
“Fine, fine,” Ava allowed, “we were just heading back to study anyways.” gathering her stuff by hand, she took off after Beatrice.
“We?” Mary chuckled.
The pair of Slytherins watched as Ava made her way off the field. “If she convinces Beatrice to fly-”
“I know” cut in Mary “It’ll be a pain in the ass. But at least it’ll make for one interesting season.”
———————————— ~ ————————————
The thing about Ava is she genuinely believes she can convince anyone of anything. Whether it was her miraculous appearance in Hogsmeade after Beatrice had for sure seen her attempting (and failing) to forge a signature on the required parental slip, or the late night sweets and coffee she provided her friend’s study group with during O.W.L.S. well past the usual hours of the kitchen, or somehow getting out of a well deserved detention –though it's safe to say she learned that trick later into her stay at Hogwarts– Ava had come to master whatever magic it takes to win over people's hearts. So, it came to no-one's surprise that she eventually managed to convince Beatrice to try-out. Granted, her first few attempts hadn’t been as well received… or, in Camila’s opinion, well executed.
Ava had to drop her stuff back at the Hufflepuff’s quidditch room which interrupted her opportunity to ask Beatrice outright after seeing her fly. This unfortunate delay gave Ava a little too much time to think, which prompted her to spiral from just asking Beatrice to “going all out.”
In hindsight maybe giving Beatrice a cake that said “You’re exactly who we’re Seeking ” hadn’t been the most direct way to ask her to come to try-outs. And maybe magically surprising her with it in the middle of lunch had left her more confused than informed.
Beatrice’s forehead knitted in confusion, trying to work out whatever secret message the cake was implying. “Ava I—“
“I thought it’d be a sweet idea to ask you to join the Quidditch team” Ava beamed a little extra at her own pun “After all for you try-outs would be a piece of cake .”
Beatrice just stared at her. “I don’t enjoy cake.” was all Beatrice supplied before excusing herself from the table, cheeks pinking as she walked away.
Ava ignored the way Camila barely tried to hide her laugh.
And okay so if a grand gesture wasn’t the way to go, Ava thought the next best option would be proving to Beatrice her own aptitude. If she could see just how amazing she’d be at the game, maybe she’d be more interested.
This, however, just led to Ava throwing tiny objects at Beatrice throughout the day yelling “incoming” or “catch” each time. Beatrice of course caught each item, not always with ease, but after the fourth time, she decided her patience had been exceeded. Thus when Ava lobbed the 5th object, this time her potions book, Beatrice hexed it mid air, sending it right back (at an albeit much faster velocity than she intended), hitting Ava square in the face.
Nose broken and bleeding, Ava had to be escorted to the infirmary by Beatrice and Camila.
When Ava, blood staining her chin and white collar shirt, asked if Beatrice had a “ Soar spot” for her yet, Beatrice insisted she get checked for a concussion.
Ava admitted that perhaps she was acting a bit too weird about the whole thing. But when Camila had asked her if she had thought about just approaching Beatrice in a less aggressive way everything clicked. Of course. She should be more attentive, prove to Beatrice that she’d be in good care while on the team. Doing little acts like walking Bea to class, waking her up with a fresh cup of coffee, cleaning up her area of the girls dormitory, opening doors for her– it would all be less aggressive like Camila suggested and Beatrice would even see how considerate she was.
What she hadn’t considered was that her and Beatrice shared over half their classes together, meaning walking together was already part of their daily routine, and the classes they didn’t share weren’t particularly close, resulting in her being tardy and having to talk her way out of detention.
In regards to waking her up, Ava wasn’t actually sure what ungodly hour Beatrice woke up at. She tried more than once to wake before her, but Beatrice was always up with her bed made well before Ava. She tried staying up all night in the common room, but inevitably fell asleep. She woke up to a magical alarm –no doubt set by Beatrice– covered in a blanket that she definitely hadn’t had before falling asleep.
As far as tidying up for Bea, well Beatrice wasn’t particularly messy, so there wasn’t exactly much for her to clean in their shared dorm room. Beatrice had always been a fan of cleaning up after herself as much as possible so as to not leave any extra work for others. If anything, it was just Ava cleaning up more of her own messes.
The holding doors for Beatrice part of the plan worked okay at first. She would hold doors, pull out her chair for her, and try to insist on carrying anything heavy Beatrice had. Each time she held the door for Beatrice, Ava made sure to try to make extra eye contact. She wanted to show intent, to demonstrate that Beatrice was her focus. But after the third day of holding doors and insisting Bea went first, Beatrice started using magic to open and lift things before Ava could get close enough to touch anything.
It’s not that Beatrice didn’t appreciate the efforts, she actually found it quite endearing. But all of Ava’s attention was a little overwhelming for her. Being at the center of Ava’s focus was disarming. Beatrice caught herself fighting off a blush too many times in one day, having to remind herself each time exactly why the girl was being extra sweet. She knew Ava was kind in general, but being the subject of that kindness non-stop was dangerous. It was too easy to be addicted. Too easy to believe a false truth. She couldn't let those kinds of thoughts linger.
Regardless of the rejection, Ava, as she often is when she’s been struck by an idea, remained determined. Beatrice had to love flying. She had to. Ava was sure of it.
Though, if she actually asked Beatrice why she was hesitant, like the rest of their friends during Ava's antics, she would give a tight smile and say that flying just simply wasn’t for her.
“Okay but hear me out Bea.”
“You keep starting every sentence like that, and while I would contend that I have yet to not ‘hear you out’ I still have no interest in playing.”
“Okay but this time you aren’t hearing me out then.”
Beatrice looked up from her texts just to give a pointed look.
The pair were in Beatrice's favorite wing of the library, away from the front desk, and common space that attracted more noise, but not so reclusive that it gave permission to couples looking for a quiet space. Beatrice was sitting upright in a chair with three open texts, a long roll of parchment, and her ink quill in front of her. Ava, who sat opposite of her, had exactly one book in front of her, and it was noticeably not open.
“You were smiling.”
That hadn’t been where Beatrice was expecting this to go. “....What?”
“When you were flying to help Superion! It was hard to see you because you were moving so fast. But when you caught that snitch… you were smiling so brightly.”
“I think me smiling is hardly enough reason to join a sports team. One that I might add consistently results in your injury.”
“Just- look, just listen! I genuinely think you’d love the sport if you gave it a chance.”
Knowing not much studying would get done until Ava was either thoroughly shut down or actually kicked out, Beatrice resigned herself to listen “And what exactly makes you assume that?”
“You love violence?” Ava offered.
“I- what?”
“Okay no wait that sounds stupid, it’s just that- I think there's something inside you. I’ve seen you in the fencing club and wizard duels, you’ve got some much power inside you waiting to get out.”
Beatrice had learned at a young age how to examine micro expressions. It was as much a a tool for social interaction as it was a defense mechanism against her parents. She knew when a compliment was genuine, she knew the exact way to shape her face to give one. She knew how to trace doubt across someone’s features, and she knew best practices to avoid giving the wrong impression. She however, in that moment forgot the importance of not rolling one’s eyes. “I would hardly call using basic skills in what most would consider rudimentary training as a passion for violence.”
“Okay fair, but I’ve also seen you throat-punch a girl over foul language.”
“Crimson said a slur, and me hitting her was a calculated move to administer immediate consequences. I maintain that it saved her years of torment for Mary and Lilith… Besides, it was more of a chop really.”
Ava laughed at that “Okay what if I say it’d be a good way to retaliate against your parents?” Beatrice did her best not to stiffen at the comment. “Ya know, release your inner rebel? Fight the power? You and Lilith are always talking about expectations, okay maybe Lilith more than you, but this would be a great way to give yourself something outside of that?”
“The question intonation is not helping your case.”
“Beaaa” Ava dragged out her name, letting the pout return.
“Quidditch is a waste of my time. I have other priorities like my extra courses this semester. Giving up my time to study would be counter intuitive.”
“How can you say that? You’re always coming to our matches! You don’t have to pretend you’re not a fan.” Ah and here came the trademark grin.
A fan? Had she been so obvious? So what if she made sure to attend all of Ava’s games? School spirit is an important part of academic participation. It fuels a students sense of belonging and fosters comradery. And what about supporting your peers in their interests? Attending all of the Hufflepuff games was just a measure of encouraging Ava and Camila. Besides, despite Hufflepuffs losing streak, the team had some incredible flyers. Watching Ava soar through the skies, making incredible saves… Ava has always been warm and kind, she’s always had a love for adventure and a passion for wonder, but on a broom? She was something else entirely. The way she glided was not necessarily light, but full of raw power. She moved through the sky like the air was scared to stand in her way. Like the Earth was too small to hold her. She danced on the pitch, wild and without reservation, robbing Beatrice of her breath every time she made a save or dodged a bludger.
“I bet you even have a secret Quidditch poster at home.”
Oh. She meant Quidditch. Right. Of course she did.
Ava took Beatrice’s silence for annoyance- her grin falling to a more nervous expression.
“Fine, okay, what about the fact that you’re incredible at it and that I could really use someone as skilled as you?”
“I’ve literally never played the sport before and you’ve only seen me fly for a few minutes at most.”
“But—“
“Ava please I really do have a lot of work to do, and—“
“You might have never played but I know you, you’re always paying attention. You see so much of what’s going on around you, and I know you know the rules. You fucking love rules!”
“Language.”
“Right, sorry.” She waved her hand as if she could flick away the offense, apologizing more out of habit than actual remorse. “I think you’d be amazing at it. You’re amazing at everything. Actually, two seasons ago you gave me some good advice.”
That caught Beatrice off guard. But conversations with Ava were usually difficult to navigate, always full of unexpected turns and statements. “I am sorry but, I really don’t recall.”
“You were tired of hearing me complain to Camila in the Library I think.” Ava was smiling again, but her eyes were unfocused, recalling whatever memory she was about to share. “I was being loud.”
“You are usually loud.”
“Hey!” Laughed Ava, her eyes finding Beatrice. “I’m being serious here.”
“Alright,” Beatrice set down her quill and straightened her already pretty perfect posture. “Continue.”
“We were in the middle of our season and we were losing badly to Slytherin… again, and I was telling Camila that we needed to research some crazy plays like a fluffernutter, or chicken dive.” Beatrice’s eyebrows pinched, not remembering the conversation. “And you interrupted, and said the issue wasn’t that we lacked skill or crazy plays. You said it was that we didn’t trust in our team. That we were all so focused on our individual roles that it’s almost like we were playing for ourselves.”
Ah. Yeah she had said that hadn’t she. “I think I recall.” Beatrice hadn’t put much weight in the conversation. If anything she had felt bad afterwards for offering an opinion un-prompted, but Ava had been pretty loud at the time, and Beatrice put a lot of stock in her studies, thus the comment had really been a polite outburst to try and motivate Ava to end her rant so Beatrice could have some peace and quiet. “I was speaking out of turn then.”
“Nah you were right though.” Ava waved off the apology “I still remember, you said ‘Work for your team Ava.’ like it was the most obvious answer in the world. And I don't think I ever thanked you.”
Ah, therein lies a whole different issue though. Shortly after Beatrice had made that comment, Ava had begun her very impressive streak of getting injured in every single game. Beatrice hadn’t considered that her comment had much weight, but apparently she had underestimated the effect of her words. Her stomach dropped at the thought. Ava had always played a little recklessly, her tendency for injury even before Beatrice’s comment was relatively high. It was part of why Bea went to every single game, and why she often found herself in the Infirmary afterwards, lecturing her friend. But since that year Ava’s injuries had increased greatly. She had developed a bad habit of taking all the hits.
“Thanked me?” The confusion was back “I don’t mean to be dismissive of your efforts, but Hufflepuff still lost that season. If anything I’d say things have gotten worse ”
Ava winced at the last part. “True, but it changed how I saw the game.” Ava bit her lip, eyes unfocusing “I was playing to prove myself, but now… now I play for others. I play for my team, for the people I care about. And I think that mindset is what got me chosen as team captain the next year.”
Playing for others. Beatrice gave a soft smile at that “I think it was more your stubborn certainty that you could win,”
Ava shook her head with a small smile, “Yeah okay maybe that too, but still. You really pushed me to fall back in love with the sport. To focus on my team and to enjoy the game again. And–” she looked Beatrice in the eye, bumping her leg against hers gently under the desk.'' Maybe it's selfish, but I think you could help me again.” and maybe, Ava thought, maybe I can help you too.
“...fine. fine. ”