#quidditch practice

I sighed as I sat down at the breakfast table, my eyes only half-open. I didn't want to be awake at all this early, literally as the sun still rose outside the windows, but Oliver, my boyfriend, needed me. He had tryouts for the major professional Quidditch teams in just four days, and he'd been driving himself crazy with stress and preparation as the big day approached.

As I sank into the chair next to him, trying to muster the energy to chat about literally anything other than Quidditch to help take his mind off things, he stood.

I turned, bleary-eyed, to squint up at Oliver in question. He sighed and tangled a hand in the hair at the back of my neck, staring at me fondly before leaning in to place a soft kiss on my lips. Then, he pulled back and stepped a few paces away, and I realized he was wearing his Quidditch clothes.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I've got to go get some more practice hours in," he said. He looked just as tired as I did, and he slouched despite the broom over his shoulder. The prospect of playing Quidditch usually lit him up like a Christmas tree, but not now. "The tryout's only three days away, and I can't waste this opportunity."

"I- Oliver, are you sure?" I asked, trying to gather my thoughts as I struggled to stand up. I was not awake yet. "You've been working yourself ragged lately, maybe you should take a break-"

"I can't afford to take a break. I have to ace this tryout, which means I have to get as much practice as possible before then."

"Okay, but Ollie-"

"I'm alright, love, I promise," he said, pausing long enough to give me a confident (if tired) smile. "I'll see you later tonight. If you're up for it, maybe you could help me practice a little later too. The charmed Quaffles are great, but you're definitely a better Chaser than a charm."

I just stared back at him, my brain still operating a little slowly. He gave me another smile, then raised his wand and swished it confidently through the air. Just like that, he disappeared.

I sighed. The only thing I wanted to do was go back to bed, immediately. But I loved Oliver more than I wanted to go back to sleep. And he may have said he was fine, but I didn't believe him for half a second.

Just like at Hogwarts, I needed to suit up and head to the Quidditch pitch at the crack of dawn. And, just like Hogwarts, I needed to make sure my wonderful, driven, fantastic, and crazy boyfriend didn't completely run himself into the ground in pursuit of his goals.

Suddenly more awake now that I knew Oliver needed me, I rushed to put on my Quidditch robes. I shot a blast of magic back over my shoulder with my wand, quickly brewing a pot of coffee while I changed. I grabbed as much caffeine as I could in a go-mug, then moved to where Oliver stood a few seconds ago and Disapparated to the Quidditch pitch.

I arrived to find dark clouds moving quickly over the pitch, starting to block out the barely-risen sun. Still, my boyfriend hovered between the hoops, bewitched Quaffles flying at his face. He blocked one after the other with no problem, like he always did. He didn't need this practice. He needed to take care of himself. But this was basically the only way he knew how to handle stress.

I sighed, then used my wand to disappear my empty coffee cup before hopping on my broom, pushing off, and taking to the sky.

"Ollie!" I called, waving to him as I got closer to the pack of hovering Quaffles. He looked confused for a second, but then his face lit up when he saw me.

"Y/N! You came!" he cried. I sighed, but smiled at him nonetheless.

"Of course! I'm always here for you, no matter what."

We shared a soft look, and my heart warmed despite the distance between us, the biting wind cutting through my robes, and the tiredness still hovering around me. Then, I grabbed the nearest Quaffle, and we began.

Oliver locked into the zone quickly, and I could see his brain working a mile a minute as I streaked across the field towards him, Quaffle ready to throw. Despite my best efforts, Oliver blocked almost everything that came at him, just like I knew he would. He really didn't need this practice; he was a cinch for the pros.

Still, he wanted to keep working, so I kept flying down the pitch at him. The sky continued to darken around us and the wind picked up, but I didn't say anything until the first few drops of rain started to fall.

"Oliver?" I called, pausing at his end of the pitch after he made another fantastic save. He floated back up to me and tossed me the Quaffle, looking more than ready for the next round, but I didn't budge.

"What's the matter?" he asked. I squinted up at the dark clouds and rain above us, then looked back at Oliver.

"I think it might be time to call it a day," I said. Oliver frowned, looking up at the sky himself for a minute and then shaking his head.

"No, I can't. I need to be able to play in conditions like this, I can't let it beat me." I started to say something in response, but he continued before I could. "If you want to call it a day, though, that's alright. I appreciate all the practice and help you've given me already."

"Honey... don't you think you should take care of yourself? Maybe come in from the cold and rain and give yourself a little rest?"

He waved me off, pulling out his wand to bewitch the Quaffles to fly at him again. "I'm doing fine. What I need is more practice. I'm starting to run out of time before the tryouts, after all."

I frowned, but floated back towards the ground anyway as Oliver resumed his training. I wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up by the fire in sweats with a nice cup of tea, but I couldn't bring myself to leave Oliver. So instead, I settled for huddling under the overhang of some of the stands around the pitch, slightly out of the rain and wind, and watching him.

As time went on, the storm just got worse. I was almost soaked to the bone, so I couldn't imagine how wet and tired Oliver must be getting up there. A bolt of lightning struck in the sky not too far from us, and I decided enough was enough.

I jumped back on my broom and took to the sky, determined to retrieve my boyfriend before he got seriously hurt or ill. I made it about halfway to him, then called over the wind and rain to try to get his attention.

"Ollie! I think you need to come in!"

He looked at me, seeming a little concerned, and then the next thing I knew a bolt of white hot light came streaking out of the sky and made contact with the front end of his broom.

"Oliver!" I screamed, my voice breaking as my boyfriend's broom exploded under him. He sank through the air, going limp and falling off the side, and after a second of panic I raced after him.

By some miracle, I managed to catch him before he hit the ground. He was incredibly heavy, so we half-flew half-fell to the ground, but I managed to keep him from hitting at full speed. As soon as we touched down in the grass, I started to drag him towards the pitch's locker rooms, the nearest possible shelter. Thank God he started to come to as we walked, and although he was more than a little delirious, he stumbled along next to me with an arm across my shoulders and my arm around his waist.

I shoved open the door to the locker rooms and Oliver and I stumbled through, leaving the storm behind us. I helped set him down on the nearest bench, then dropped to my knees in front of him, checking him over as quickly as I could for any sign of injury.

"Oliver? Are you okay?" I breathed, only half expecting an answer. He nodded, slowly, and after another minute or two I came to the conclusion that he was more rattled than actually hurt.

I sighed a massive breath of relief, then stood before collapsing down on the bench next to Oliver. We just sat there for a second, together in total silence, recovering from the shock of the past few minutes. Then, slowly, Oliver reached out and took my hand. He didn't turn to look at me, but he squeezed my hand, then spoke.

"Thank you for saving me," he said. I sighed and squeezed his hand back, closing my eyes for a minute. Then, I turned to face him.

"Oliver. I will always save you if I can. But the next time you decide to go do something insane like this, I might not be around to save you," I said. "I mean... what if I had decided to go back to bed this morning, like I was first planning to? What if you had left before I woke up, and I didn't know you were out here? You could be dead right now, Oliver!"

"I know, Y/N, I know..."

"No, Ollie, I don't think you do." I paused and took a deep breath, then took Oliver's hands again and faced him a little better on the bench. He met my eyes, and it gave me a warm feeling in my chest. "Oliver, you are so driven and determined. You've been working for this for your entire life, and it's wonderful to see how hard you're working for that goal. But you can't keep completely sacrificing and disregarding your own health and wellbeing for stuff like this. You just can't."

He sighed heavily, dropping his head a bit to stare at the floor. We stayed like that in silence for a few beats, and I let my words settle. Then, finally, he looked back up at me.

"You're right, I suppose," he said. "But I just... I can't make myself stop. Like you said, I've been working for this my entire life. For the most part, this has been my life. Quidditch, and almost nothing else. I... I'm terrified, Y/N, that after all the work I put in, all the time I dedicated... it's all going to be for nothing. If I fail this tryout, it all goes to waste, and I stop being able to do the thing I love."

"Oh, Oliver," I sighed, rubbing my hand up and down his arm to try to offer him some kind of comfort. I leaned into him, then continued. "I know it's probably not going to make you feel much better now, but this one single tryout is anything but the end for you."

He scoffed, clearly not believing my words, but I didn't let that deter me.

"First of all, there are plenty of players who didn't do well on their first tryout and had to come back and try it again," I said. "Some of your favorite players in fact, if memory serves."

Oliver hummed, giving me a little bit of acknowledgement, which I took as a good sign.

"And besides that, even if, for whatever reason, you don't make a professional team, that doesn't have to be the end-all be-all for doing what you love. You can always play for fun, or somewhere else without necessarily being on one of the fancy professional teams. You could even coach! But either way, there's plenty of ways for you to continue doing what you love, no matter the results of this tryout."

Oliver hummed as I leaned into him and continued.

"Besides, you don't need to worry anyway. You're the best damn Quidditch player I've ever seen, and I went to the Scotland vs Canada World Cup a few years ago."

Oliver huffed a laugh, but the small smile stayed on his face. He seemed to be feeling a little cheerier, thankfully, since he'd been in a very bad place almost all day. I gave him a second, resting my head on his shoulder as I could hear the storm quieting outside, before I played my last card to finish making my case.

"Not to mention, Oliver, that you can't play Quidditch if you're dead thanks to a lightning strike after insisting on practicing in insane weather like this."

He took a deep breath in, and I leaned back to look at him as he let the breath out in a long, long sigh. Finally, after a second, he turned to me.

"You're not wrong," he sighed, giving my hand a light squeeze. I met his warm brown eyes as he continued. "I don't want to have to resort to any other opportunities, but if I get struck by lightning, that's going to hurt my chances at these tryouts more than anything else could."

He hesitated, glancing briefly at the ground, and then he met my eyes again, his attention more focused on me than it had been in any of the Quidditch craziness so far.

"Thank you, Y/N. For taking care of me. Especially when I'm so bad at taking care of myself."

I gave him a soft smile, happy to be here with him, especially after watching him literally get blown out of the sky.

"I'll always watch out for you, Ollie. I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N."

I leaned in at the same time as him, sharing a soft, lingering kiss before pulling apart. After a second, he sighed, then stood up from the bench.

"It doesn't look like the weather's going to be good enough for practice any time soon," he announced. "So, what do you say we go home and rest by the fire instead?"

"Oliver, I can't think of anything I'd want more," I said with a smile as I stood to join him. He met my smile with a tired one of his own, then took my hand before gathering up both of our brooms.

"Would you do the honors?" he asked. I nodded.

"I'll even make the tea, if you're willing to start the fire."

"You have a deal," he said. We shared another calm, comfortable smile, and then I raised my wand and disapparated both of us back to our cozy, wonderful apartment. As promised, Oliver went to put our brooms away before going to start the fire as I got tea started on the stove. Before today, I honestly couldn't have imagined Oliver willingly taking a break from Quidditch to relax with me at home. And although it would probably still be a fairly rare occurrence, after today it seemed far less than completely impossible.

Nothing like a near-death experience to completely change someone's life view, I suppose.

****************

Stealing the chance while a tray of fruit was being led out after your cup was emptied you asked, “Sorry, but, where is everyone?”

The Elf replied with a subtle bow of his head in catching your eye, “Lord Elrond joined the other Elven forces marching to reinforce Rohan’s borders, Your Majesty.”

“Borders?” A distant clap of thunder however had you standing to hurry to the nearest walkway where your eyes fixed on a sliver of near to black clouds in the horizon. Glancing back to Arwen whose attention was fixed on you a quick shake of your hand had you saying, “I’m sorry, I have to go. We’ll have tea again sometime.”

Lindir’s sister bowed her head with a creeping grin excited on having had a few private moments with you unprovoked. Darting off you shook each of your feet switching your heels to comfortable boots heading for the doorway to Greenwood. The second empty Palace had your heart racing and every hall you checked until you got to the main Royal Gardens that you slid into the doorway of making your boys stand up and Taule turn noticing you. “Where’s Dew Drop?”

Her lips parted and she said, “Thranduil and Legolas took our forces to Gondor.”

You nodded and glanced at the boys with a soft grin, “I’ll be back, don’t worry boys.” You turned mumbling, “I’ll figure this out..” Darting back through the halls to your enchanted doorway into Rohan where you heard the lingering elderly Men on guard shouting up at the looming blackening clouds.

“Your Majesty,” the man on your right drew your focus saying, “King Thengel marched with our forces this morning joined by your Elven forces towards Gondor.”

“Which way is Gondor?” He pointed and turning your head you sent your doorway to your home and with a sharp whistle your broom flew to your side dropping the jaw of the men watching you hop onto the broom and whip off into the direction he pointed to. Wide eyed he stared where you vanished until the questions of those left behind drug him back to the present adding to your mystery.

The faster you flew the darker it got. Until all you could hear was the whipping of the wind and distant voices far below and a glimmer of a large white kingdom you circled getting a clear view of dark specks as far as you could see of a rival army of orcs, goblins, wargs and trolls reaching to a distant city surrounding a volcano. Below you the soldiers marching out of the open gates of the city in silver armor joined the golden and silver armored Elves below lined up on foot and horseback to the side of horseback soldiers in bright colored garb with Rohan’s crest on their chests and mane bearing helmets. Mingled between a large army of Dwarves no doubt from all three connected Dwarf Kingdoms offering as much aid as possible on both foot and on the backs of large armored battle rams and boars.

Onto the edge of the overlook you stood feeling the wind whip harshly tugging your long braid side to side now darkening to a midnight blue. Almost silent under the growing winds heavy doors opened behind you and the Men filing out of it stood wide eyed wondering who the odd strange woman in the distance was. One press of your thumb to your bared forearm once your sleeves were rolled up and eyes lifted to the plumes of smoke crashing into the ground around you revealing your Death Eaters. A mental warning sent as well and clouds of light landed among them revealing a number of Aurors and the Order alongside Alastor summoned by a squeeze of the duck charm you kept safely tucked your pocket.

A reach up brought your hair up into a messy bun and as your hands fell you eyed the plumes of smoke swirling over the army of dark figures marching on Gondor. In your walk closer to the far edge you spotted Thranduil and Glorfindel surrounded by Elrond, Celeborn and the Feanoreans clad in shining armor contrasting the dark storm ordering their soldiers on the plan they had crafted. Armies of Elves, Dwarves and Men behind them and all you could hear was, “This is a death march.” The Death Eater who said it shook his head, “Their numbers won’t make a dent.” It was then you saw Gandalf trying to cast up a light to help fight the near blinding darkness now spreading over the city.

At the first catapult being aimed you shifted your hand summoning your broom stick you hopped on and led the soaring path out over the armies towards the dark foes. A reach back into the holster on your belt freed your wand for you to wave it shifting the giant boulder into snow parting the lips of the forces below as their stomachs clenched seeing the young Queen and mother of four soaring off into battle.

Behind you the broom riding forces and their passengers drew their wands striking their own curses at the catapults and forces beneath them shifting them into clouds of confetti, seeds, piles of snow and other far from dangerous things hindering their hopes of destruction. The teens joined you in dropping vacuum jars enchanted to suck up hundreds of the orcs and goblins until you eyed the flapping figures in the distance. Nine nazgul flew towards you with two burning plumes of ash following after parting your lips. Rapidly they came down upon you and you led the others in shrinking the winged beasts as the others attacked their riders that seemed to vanish on the breeze and destroyed the weapons on their backs.

Avoiding the flaming plumes your eyes landed on the familiar golden head of hair exposed in your path around them. Bound tightly in the smoke Gilderoy Lockhart flopped unconsciously stirring your turn, “Anaticula” you barely had to mentally mumble and the bright glittering yellow disarming curse you fired at the glowing pair wreathed in smoke promptly made them drop straight to the earth while Remus levitated the unconscious Wizard free from their grasp. In a speedy dip you landed between the pair and the armed forces surrounding Gondor behind you through the Wizards continuing onwards towards the distant city with only the twins, Sirius, Remus and Alastor remaining behind to help you if needed.

Releasing your broom it floated behind you while the nearly ten foot tall figures stared down at you angrily. One with flaming red hair and golden eyes, the other with pitch black hair and eyes shifting from purple to green like yours, both in black armor drawing long swords with diamond shaped edges along the black blades. Peering up at the taller of the two with eyes and hair similar to yours you stated, “I bet you’re Melkor.”

Glaring at you angrily his teeth were exposed in his agitated snarl while he growled in Valinorian, “You dare speak to me mewling quim!”

A twitch of your brow later you spotted his fiery haired friend chuckling as he extended his sword at you saying, “No blade nor arrow can pierce our flesh. Not with the magic we have drained from that child up there. None could end our reign again.”

In his speech you eased an enchanted set of solid silver chains you normally used for fighting werewolves from the enchanted pouch in your pocket around your wrist mirrored by another for your other wrist that instantly branched out to coat the backs of your hands and fingers. A tilt of your head later they caught your smirk as Melkor stated, “Stand aside!” Angrily his hand jut out wreathed in flames and in his attempt to shoot a ball of flames you watched a duck appear in his open palm parting his lips in shock.

That was your cue, in a jolt forward you swatted Melkor’s sword away while the duck took off in flight and balled up your fist feeling the tensing of the Elves behind you as your intendeds were being restrained from racing out to you by a shielding spell from the Aurors. Heavily your punch landed into his side under the fold in his armor at its weakest spot drawing a pained whining exhale in his drop to his knees making his sword fall from his grip to land hard into the earth. Three steps later towards his advancing friend you jumped up swung your leg over his still extended sword bearing arm, knocking his helmet free in your kick. Folding your leg around his arm, your weight slumping him forward right in the position to crash your forehead into his nose breaking it and covering his face and neck with blood.

Above you the floating Wizards grinned and smirked in your backwards drop to one leg while he dropped his sword that fell heavily to the grass enabling you to sweep his legs out from under him and turn in time to punch Melkor in the face at his reach for his sword. Sauron groaned shifting onto his side with golden eyes glowing beginning to speak in Black Speech causing your hair to stand on end for the chills racking through your body sharply stopping at the sudden appearance of nine black robed and armored figures who all drew their swords encircling you. Sauron hissed at your swiveling inspection of the approaching figures, “Let us watch you writhe in the dirt.”

Melkor just about cackled when his grin dropped at Fred and George landing on either side of you, “Right with you.” Around their hands guards matching yours folded out over their fists eyeing their own three of the nine odd foes.

George said, “I can’t see anything on them passed the cursed blades.”

“Their rings, take their rings.” They nodded and together you charged at the center figure in your trio using the backs of your hand guards to swat away the sword, though in your try to slam into their chest you passed right through them. Exhaling sharply you ducked in time to miss a jab of the second figure’s blade and rolled out of the way from the third then again from the first in a backwards roll placing you straight in front of the bleeding Lords painfully watching you three duck and weave around the nine.

Behind your back Melkor through the throbbing pain in his head blinking through the blood from where your punch had split his skin open he eyed your back and then his sword. Smirking to himself he lifted up and drew back his blade to stab at you only to gasp in shock when you aparated to his side at the mental tip from your father hovering above. A flick of your fingers turned his sword to flowers and in his turn you grabbed a fistful of his hair at the back of his head and kneed him in the face, releasing him to fall to the ground in his gurgling coughs you stated, “Where I’m from it’s considered poor manners to stab someone otherwise distracted.”

Growling loudly Sauron rose up snarling with his sword in hand only to fall back again in your hopping step forward blending into a spinning kick sending him rolling away once your foot collided with his jaw. Landed again your eyes turned to the nine and ignoring Melkor trying to stagger to his feet back to the others you darted ignoring the shouts from the Elves to run away muffled by the Men and Dwarves cheering your efforts so far. Over George’s back in his hunch forward you rolled grabbing the hilt of the sword on the wraith trying to attack him while your three closed in. Shifting in your palm the sword’s curse was broken and in a pulse shifted to a bow and arrow stunning the Elves watching your drop down to notch an arrow that fired off into the wrist of one close to killing Fred.

He caught the then dropped sword from his attacker by the hilt and hacked the hand off one of his trio and quickly snatched the ring he pocketed shriveling the shrieking body to nothing. George caught on taking one of your arrows he charged at another to stab their wrist taking their sword too in your pocketing the ring you jerked off the hand of the one you disarmed. Shrieks and shriveling had you down to six when out of nowhere Melkor had Sauron’s sword again and in a charge at you had you three parting to drop sweeping his legs while George turned that sword to a flopping fish.

Sauron, “Stay down curs!”

On your knees you eyed the group of foes around you watching Melkor and Sauron rising with daggers being drawn out of their belts, smirks from them dimmed when their eyes shifted towards the sparks encircling you and flashing through your now white eyes. Clenching your fist one deep inhale later and your punch slammed hard into the ground halting them in their tracks only to watch you three rise in your draconic spell being uttered. Locking eyes with Melkor a widening of his eyes came in the green apple scent wafting on the breeze growing stronger at the raw power glimpsed for just a moment before right out of that hole a lightning formed whomping willow shot up roaring and ready to fight. Distantly drawing loud cheers from Elrond’s sons knowing what was coming for the group against you, Fred and George.

Panic flooded their hearts in the first sway of the branches while you and the twins darted apart using the violent spark raining slams of each branch colliding in aims to kill the eight trying to both flee and attack you three dove and rolled away from death blows that only angering the tree even more. Above your family watching cheered you on at each skilled dart away and leap onto swinging branches lined you up to steal yet another ring. High atop a reared up branch you caught sight of the Elves open mouthed watching your now apparently kneeling brightly glowing self fired an arrow into the ringed hand of another that in the drop of the branch leapt from to steal the ring off then duck back again in a spin. Straightening up again watching Melkor drop to your foot planting in the back of his knee allowing you a straight shot to his jaw sending him into the dirt again hard while you took hold of another swaying branch.

Climbing trough the tree you and the twins aligned yourselves to take out each and every one of the remaining from the nine, at the eighth you allowed the charm for the tree to dissipate when you called out a bit too sternly, “K!” In a pop he appeared at your side and you asked in a far kinder yet still forced tone, “Dog sock dolls please.” Down to the ground on the shrinking lightning tree you three went with the twins leaping down to amputate the hand of the remaining two wraiths while you darted for the taller bloody pair rushing for the twins.

A swing of your foot had Sauron stumbling and hard you brought your bow up catching Melkor’s arm in it you twisted around his back to release placing him between you and Sauron, who nearly stabbed him in the shoulder, avoiding doing so at the last moment only to have Melkor crash into his chest. Jumping onto his back again you punched Sauron hard in the face and flipped off Melkor’s back, falling hard onto yours when his hand shot up to grab your leg. Right beside you K popped up breaking the Valar’s sneer at your still blood coated face making his diamond edged dagger wielding hand lower slightly.

Yet his eyes snapped back to you at your hands lifting to slice open your palms on said dagger through a smirk at their panicked expressions when the twins had them by their hair. Rolling up to sit you took hold if the dolls shaped like bulldogs now covering with your blood that once on your feet you pressed to their foreheads. Between the warm blood from your open wounds and the thick Draconic you spoke once again their mouths dropped open in silent screams through their wide eyed stares up at your brilliantly glowing self shimmering in spectrums of color to their view unseen to their eyes since leaving Valinor.

The words echoed through flashes of lightning splitting through the sky forcing the wind to whip up loosening your bright blue bun freeing a few curls from your braid to whip across your face helplessly. A few words in the pair gasped while their eyes glowed brightly. Both suffocating to those looking on, rising to their knees to try and clutch at your legs digging painful holes into your thighs at their sharpened finger covers in the snap from K that took their remaining weapons from them.

The bright lights of their Fea being sucked into the dolls caused their bodies to wither and fade on the wind along with the darkened clouds at your blood soaking into the dolls binding them inside turning their stitched eyes to glowing balls in the pair’s usual golden and purple to green hues. At your feet the collapsed piles of armor beside their re-transfigered swords laying a few feet in opposite directions from your group while a second duck waddled curiously in the grass, summoned from a last minute attempt to break free from your efforts by Sauron. Looking up you locked eyes with Fred and George who let out exhausted laughs and came over to you at the dropping of the barrier around the allied forces.

The three of you said in the calming of the winds, “Now, you two will have plenty of time to think about the trouble you’ve caused.” A flinch of a glance over your shoulder brought the cheering forces into view before you looked back again.

With a chuckle Alastor landed in front of you drawing from his pocket a small latched metal cylinder he pressed down that popped open into a round bird cage he eased the door to open for you to nudge the pair inside for them to turn looking at you and the twins battered and bloody from the awe inspiring skirmish. Remus chuckled and turned his head nodding to the charging pair of horses with the Elf Lords on them.

Reaching into your pockets the three of you brought out the nine rings your father produced a jar for asking, “More Horcrux?”

You nodded, “Feels like it. He has more.”

Loudly the horses and Turo neared crossing the field, all struggling to reach you first while Sirius and Remus helped to heal the gashes and bloody noses on Fred and George. Alastor warmly patted you on the back drawing your attention from the panicked Elves saying, “Downright wicked. Lightning Whomping Willow, one for the books right there.”

Weakly you chuckled saying, “Well, had to add a home field advantage somehow against their cursed swords.”

In a few eager strides the horses halted and they all dismounted, straight to your side Maedhros rushed, somehow beating the others, claiming your wrists eyeing your blood coated hands and wrists. The latter he tore his handkerchief in two to bandage both of your bleeding palms until you could see a Healer. In a reach over his arm, once dismounted, Glorfindel drew out his handkerchief wet by his water skin to wipe your forehead and exhale in relief at the lack of any cut there followed by his wiping the blood from the rest of your face as well. A hand eased over your cheek for Thranduil to turn your face inspecting it with a tear filled and stunned gaze before he turned his attention to your still bleeding bandaged hands his folded around for a few silent tearful moments.

Over your shoulder Elros eyed the pair in the cage and asked, “What did you do to them?”

With a giggle you answered, “Oh, just trapped their souls in those sock dolls.”

He raised a brow, “This is normal treatment?”

Alastor answered for you, “Only for those unable to be ever allowed to be free again.”

Elrond, “Free again?”

Remus grinned saying, “For the Wizards that go truly dark we bind their souls in these dolls. They can never free themselves and normally their powers are blocked beforehand, as Jaqi did with her duck charm.”

Maglor, “Duck charm?”

Thranduil eyed Sirius in his fumble into his pockets to draw out a Pheonix Phable he opened and passed to you and grinned seeing that your wounds other than your self inflicted cuts quickly healing as you popped the candy between your lips. Then dropped the wrapper, that morphed into grains for the eager duck at your feet as Remus turned with a dropped of Pheonix Tears he used two drops on your still open palms he shifted the bandages to reveal. Biting your lip you held back a wince in the harsh sting of the now burning wounds in healing itself. Keeping your eyes up watching for Thranduil to look to your palms again. In his speechless inspection he wiped your hands clean mending the handkerchief its owner claimed inspecting it and your palms in awe while Maglor asked you, “Why did you hit them?”

You looked at him and raised a brow, “They drew swords. I’m not allowed to hit them?”

Maedhros, “They drew swords, no one in their right mind would think to punch Sauron and Melkor in the face! Not even our Ada.” That had Fred and George laugh again.

You nodded and replied, “Well I’ve never been noted as the straightest arrow in the bunch on the sanity scale when it comes to picking fights. One thing we Blacks know is how to throw a punch.”

Sirius chuckled leaning in to kiss your forehead, “That’s right Pumpkin. Masterfully done.” He glanced at Remus, “Azkaban then?”

Alastor nodded, “Always worth a shot.”

Celeborn, “Azkaban?”

He looked to you and you replied, “It’s our prison for those who break our laws.”

Maedhros, “You have a prison, for Isitari?”

You nodded, Thorin asked, “What sort of prison would that entail?”

"I would assume like other prisons. Small room. Cold. Dusty. Guarded by creatures that dredge up the worst moments in your life gaining nourishment from your fears and traumatic pasts." For a momentary pause your head tilted slightly at their puzzled and astonished expressions, "Not that terrible all in all. At least from when I was there. Aside from the interrogations that is."

In a glance up to Thranduil and Glorfindel they both eyed your hands as you mentally commanded the metal strips back to your chain bracelets from your fingers allowing them to see your hands fully ensuring you weren’t harmed anymore and were fully cleaned as Maedhros narrowed his gaze at you. “What is that look for?”

“You are children, and you disabled two of the darkest figures in our world.”

With a grin you held back your comment and then eyed the white city as Alastor chuckled turning raising the cage saying to the two, “I hope you enjoy your new home fellas.” Apparating away surrounded by a large group of Aurors to ensure their safe transfer.

On the side Remus raised Gilderoy off his still hovering broom to his feet after a helping of Pheonix Phables and an energy draught saying, “Seems they just drained his energy, and gave him a nasty bump on the noggin.”

“Miss Pear,” the blonde muttered flashing you a delirious wave, “My fellow stunning, smile-,” Into Remus’ chest he drooped passing out again making the later sigh and adjust his hold on the drained Wizard who shouldn’t have gone off alone.

Up at Elrond you looked asking, “How many rings did they have?”

His brows furrowed and Fred lifted the jar in his hand giving it a shake, “Nine more Horcrux.”

George asked, “There many more?”

Elrond answered, “Three for Elves, Nine for the race of Men, Four for the Dwarf Lords and the One Ring.”

Nodding you said, “We’re going to need to talk to the Dwarves then, who has the Elf rings?”

Elrond said, “Your father destroyed Nenya in Galdriel’s possession, I bear Vilya and Lord Cirdan bears Narya.”

Celbrimbor, “Lord Sauron never touched the three rings for our kin.”

Fred and George said, “Just the Dwarves’ then.”

They looked to you and George said, “Four more can’t be hard. Dwarves are shorter.”

Thranduil finally spoke, “Thrain was the last I knew of to bear one of the four, and that was stolen from him by Sauron’s forces.”

Remus said, “We’ll find them, Sirius, a hand please?” He nodded and together they flew Gilderoy off to St Mungo’s to be treated by professionals in case they missed something.

“I should probably get back, I left Arwen and Lindir’s sister at tea.” Still holding your hands Thranduil and Glorfindel guided you aside to have a moment alone with you still looking you over for any signs of pain possibly concealed. “I really am ok.”

Glorfindel said in cupping your cheek, “You are coated in blood.”

“Not my blood, well, more than two thirds isn’t mine.”

Thranduil scoffed, “That is not helpful.” His eyes lifted and looking to his son he stated, “Legolas will escort you back to be healed.”

You scoffed and Glorfindel stated, “With orders to bind you if necessary. Visit the Healers and have this blood washed off you.”

Thranduil stated, “Tauriel ensure there is no escape attempts.”

She nodded and you rolled your eyes turning to the twins lifting your hand to catch the jar tossed your way, “Apparently I’m being sentenced to a bubble bath.”

Fred and George laughed to themselves seeing you led to Legolas’ horse where both Thranduil and Glori claimed lingering kisses they planted on your lips and cast loving gazes at you. Glorfindel stated as Thranduil lifted you off the ground, “We will find you once we return home again.”

Thranduil nodded to his son who hopped on behind you taking the reigns with Tauriel mounting her own horse that sped after his when they took off leaving the others watching you fade into the distance while they decided what to do from here. Turning your head you asked the Prince peering over your shoulder, “I can’t look that bad, to warrant being sent to bathe?”

Legolas chuckled ducking as his horse trotted through the doorway you called feeding into the riding paths in Greenwood he followed to the stables while Tauriel’s horse picked up speed to ride beside his. “You are coated in blood, even without the amount wiped away it is quite alarming.”

“I suppose I am merely used to it.”

Tauriel, “Your battles usually leave you bloody?”

“Yup, nine times out of ten.”

Legolas, “Are you in pain?”

“Well, my face hurts, and my ankle, landed wrong and it’s got a twinge in it. And I’m fairly certain I broke a toe in that kick.”

Tauriel, “We will fill the tub in the King’s chambers and send for the Healers to attend you there.”

Glancing at Legolas you asked, “Is this how it will be every time I get injured?”

Legolas, “Only if you insist on getting injured.”

Scoffing at that you drew out his smirk stating, “I don’t try to get injured, and certainly don’t insist on doing so. However I do seem a magnet for pain. You get injured does he send you off in chains to the Healing ward?”

Legolas nodded, “Yes. Last time I was injured on patrol he removed me from rounds for two years.”

“Wow,” you whispered making him grin as the stables came into view and the few guards left grouped up seeing the blood covering you.

Once there he hopped down passing the reigns to one of the guards and helped you down stating, “Send word to the Healers, Queen Jaqi will be bathing in Ada’s chambers.”

On your feet he guided you to and through the Palace gaining more attention and whispers about your bloody state making Tauriel murmur, “I do have to admit two days is a record time that our Healers have been summoned to aid a resident.”

Smirking up at her you said, “What can I say, it will never be boring living near me.” Making her chuckle along with the Prince.

K ahead of you was readying the King’s ridiculously large tub that while Legolas waited outside you stripped and sank into beginning to scrub from the face down ensuring that the blood all got washed away to K’s dumping the Basilisk Venom he had brought into the jar dissolving the nine rings. Clothes were gathered next and a soft knock drew Tauriel to the door welcoming the Healers inside with your blessing. Out of the tub you lifted yourself and seated beside it you wiggled into your underwear through a warming gust of wind to dry off granting them when you laid back a chance to look you over fully and get to work.

One bandaged toe and several gashes coated in creams later you changed into a fresh pair of jeans and blouse, standing up on your sore wrapped ankle and foot to walk back through the apartment with the duo of assigned guards who grinned to Taule just having put the boys down. Upon seeing you she grinned and came to join you in the hall easing the door shut behind herself to hear, “I just realized we haven’t had an official tea together in a snacks and all way to get to know one another better. If you’re up for it that is.”

Her grin split into a wide smile and she nodded turning to join you into the sitting room where a band of servants had already prepared a tea, snacks and were working on a meal for you. All of which was settled around you on the special chair brought for your comfort with foot stool eased to perfection to support your wrapped ankle.

.

The doors opened revealing Glorfindel and Thranduil walking through with exhausted smiles coated in black and maroon stains over their armor and capes. “Is that blood?” They looked over themselves and nodded, “Why are you covered in blood? When I left the armies were gone!”

Thranduil, “There was another fleet arriving from the river Anduin under Osgiliath.”

Glancing at Glorfindel he chuckled saying, “If it helps Fred and George cleared out the waters East of Gondor and its riverside keep of Osgiliath.”

“It sort of, doesn’t. How many were hurt?”

Thranduil, “Ah, most of their forces fell by our arrows, the blood was mostly from searching Osgiliath.”

Your eyes narrowed at them and Glorfindel chuckled, “We are uninjured. We swear it. Only a few of the Men of Gondor retained injuries from a few hidden orcs.”

Thranduil nodded, “All of which were healed by your kin and their elixirs. Oh, your father asked us to inform you that the Wizard they captured has been mended and returned home.”

Glorfindel’s brows furrowed for a moment as he recited word for word, “No worse for wear. And something about your enchantment still being intact at why they were unable to drain his powers as well.”

Thranduil, “What enchantment could you have laid on him to enable that?”

Wetting your lips you answered, “Oh, um, when Melkor tried to shoot a curse at me and the duck appeared in his palm, that’s the enchantment. Each time he tries to do magic ducks appear.”

Glorfindel’s head tilted, “That, is an odd spell. What purpose could it serve?”

With a sigh you replied, “He had a habit of taking credit of other Wizards achievements and claiming them for himself and wiping their memories. Charlie actually was the one to use the charm on him, I just reminded him of the name. It’s my favorite disabling charm.”

Thranduil, “Why was he not taken to Azkaban then?”

“He’s more vain and prideful than evil. Since the charm he’s actually been quite useful.”

Glorfindel’s hand lowered to your ankle asking, “How is your injury faring?”

“Just twisted it. Nice and rested again, added some numbing cream and about ready to head out for my practice.”

Thranduil, “Practice? What for?”

“Quidditch, Moran has some ideas on a new play we might try out this season. Figured we might try it on my home court instead of troubling the workers repairing our old one from the move prepping it for this next season.”

Glorfindel, “Surely you could reschedule.”

“Don’t worry, spend most of the time on my broom, tomorrow morning is the big full on workout.” A kiss was given to them and each boy in between who huffed seeing you stroll out of the room post kind smile to Taule. Curiously Legolas however guided the others to sneak over to your home to spy on you along with the boys who desperately wanted to get a better idea of what your true role on this team was for this befuddling game marred with violence you so loved.

Changed to your old Puff game pants and a baggy t shirt over fresh socks and your sneakers. Equally as excited the twins grinned joining you back to the broom closet by the door, each one hung miniaturized on a series of hooks on the door with yours glowing sadly drawing a deflating sigh from you, “Oh,” Fred and George’s brooms also lifted the brooms of theirs that expanded in your palms, the growth revealing the cracks in the shafts of the three with yours the largest deeming them unsafe for use.

Fred, “Damn, thought we had another week at least with these.”

George, “Spose we could drop in tomorrow to buy new ones.”

“2001’s should do for now.” You said opening the lid from the case mounted up for spare brooms with three 2001’s spare from the collection purchased by Lucius years prior in case Draco needed a few more from damages or wear and tear. Sure they weren’t brand new as your group had made good use of the old things for family matches but were all the more eager to be let out of their box.

Into the air the bludgers flew and for the Elf Lords looking on the mini game spent battering the enchanted balls between floating dummies on dud brooms while Troy and Moran guided you through your new weaving path following the plan. Play after play hours it all came flooding back and diverting from the new plans to the crowd of cameras on the other side of the gate around your property. Once landed eagerly the boys hurried over and smiled through the brief trip around the pitch they all giggled through and excitedly boasted about on the way to find Em inside to play as you showered and changed before the dinner being prepped. A warning of Easterlings on the borders of Gondor however had Thranduil and his men joining another fleet of Elves to aid in the skirmish. The sight of the forces upon an already bloody field surely did the trick as they turned tail to the first volley of arrows blotting out the sun.

.

For all their desire to keep wrapped around you still in the middle of the night neither Lord was home yet and alone from your bed you rose well before dawn to get ready for a fuller practice. Straight into your closet you went, tugging your shirt off over your head with your bra next. A halter sports bra you pulled your tank top back over again. Next you swapped your shoes and jeans for a pair of knee length sweats you added a pair of running shoes on under. All in either a grey or bright green shade to help with visibility in case the mist came in early today. With a sigh you started working your hair into four braids you pulled up into a looped bun halfway to a full ponytail so it wouldn’t get in the way.

Through your house you trekked and passed through the front door grabbing your black spare Nimbus 2001 broom stick along the way. Out to the group of waiting teens beside Troy and Moran both finishing off their oranges you trotted only to spot Oliver’s sour expression before saying, “The Crimson Trotters stole our training spot.”

You nodded and said, “We could try Greenwood. I’m sure Dew Drop and the Guards won’t mind.”

Fred and George grinned, “Ya, there’s tons of empty forest around their riding grounds.”

Cedric grinned saying, “Either way with how soft he is on you they can’t get too upset. Just a few exercises.” You nodded your head and guided them through your enchanted doorway and led the group through to the riding grounds where you crossed paths with Tauriel on her way back from her patrols.

Her smile spread after a greeting nod to you and you asked, “Hey, we need some space to do some of our training, would we be fine out here?”

She nodded and eyed your brooms and the trunk floating behind Oliver, then met your eyes again, “Of course, would you need any supplies?”

You shook your head, “No, we’ve got it all in the trunk. Thank you though.”

With another nod she stated, “I will leave you to it then and inform others to keep this area clear until you are through with it.” Before you could object she had turned and hurried off back to her next post. Rolling your eyes you could feel the race of your men coming back to see what you were up to. Out in the clearing lit by glowing lanterns flown out from the top pocket on the chest you all sent off your brooms into lines for your groups and then stood around the lid of the chest Oliver kicked open.

Waving your hands you all collected your thirty pound weighted balls and turned back to your brooms where you all dropped to a lunge position and passed the ball under your bent leg. In your rise you would shift the other leg out, drop and repeat only to rise and drop down again for the first leg again for fifty reps. In the distance you could already spot the curious guards who had overheard you were training stealing peeks of the odd routine.

After that move you would plant your feet and drop down into deep squats for ten reps. Then hold upright while you raised the ball up over your heads as steadily as you could ten times before dropping into a pistol squat with one leg planted and the other extending in front of you then you would start again for until you reached fifty each. By the third set more off duty Elves had gathered, trickling over from Greenwood with a few eagerly rushing over from Rivendell and Lothlorien after one of the returning guard had rushed over to alert them to the odd training. The Feanoreans being the first to clamber into the hall to watch with Glorfindel after them while your rounds came to an end and the next set of routines began in the nearing sunrise steadily creeping light into the forest.

The final set was finally reached and you would lower down onto your backs for bicycle twists, holding up your body for a joint count to ten with a pause to raise and press the balls to your chests before going again. The next set ending with the ball between your feet to raise up as high and as many times as you could.

Those ended with a crunch up holding your back and legs bent up off the ground tapping the ball on either side of you. After ten taps you would rest the ball on your joined shins planting foot to foot with partners to lower then rise again in sit ups. Grabbing the ball again your feet would plant and you would raise and lower the ball again over your heads and start again on the twisting crunches. At the end of this at your focused furrow of your brow soft giggles were heard from your boys watching from windows above with Taule behind them smiling at your determination while she spotted Thranduil, who had snuck out of his post skirmish meeting to see what the commotion was.

His first sight of you came at your laying flat then backwards arch upwards into handstands around the ball. Lowering each time then rising to roll the ball to the other hand for the gritted joint count to fifty pushups signaling your drop into a planked position with feet off the ground for ten pushup reps and the ball being passed in between until you were in the handstand again. Awed in the distance they all watched your feet lower to the ground and rise up while you cradled your weighted balls, turning around as a group then darting off into the distance making the Elves gasp at your speed. Five startlingly fast laps gaining the attention of the herd of stags you passed later you were the first back to leap up grabbing hold of your hovering broom one handed.

The ball was lowered to between your feet and you followed alternating reps of one handed raises with high foot raises straight up over your heads. Each one stirring up comments and hushed giggles at your focused expression and reddening of the faces of the guys trying to keep up with you and Oliver. Him being one of the few to try like you to at least keep some semblance of a work out halting a painful return to the new season. Those were followed by planting both hands on the brooms to raise your knees in sideways twists to your shoulders before repeating your pull-ups.

The closeness to the teammates behind you raised brows until your turns to face one another and transfer of the balls to a hand while your legs curled up so you were dangling by the back of your knees. In your crunches up you would trade balls with your partners and drop down straight again repeating the trade. The usefulness of the action far from clear at their lack of any knowledge of quidditch.

Though behind Feanor’s back Ron asked, “What’s going on?” Maedhros nodded his head to the training session before Ron chuckled saying, “Oh if you think the training is something I’m certain you’d be floored by their first match.”

Maedhros, “Match?”

Ron nodded with a grin, “Quidditch. Wicked deadly game. I’ll uh, dig up one of our books on it on my next trip out to tea with my T.”

The Elves blinked at his back when he turned to find his intended in the mess of Elves spying on before they turned to see you all dropping down to your feet again for another set of laps only to start over again. With your final lap in the training complete you all dropped your balls to the ground and plop down onto your backs for a few end stretches halted as your head turned to see your boys circling the weighted ball the three of them failed to lift.

Thranduil crossed to you beside Glorfindel and the boys, all beaming at your hidden strength after having tested the weight of the balls for themselves.

Glorfindel, “Simply marvelous Darling. We cannot wait for your first game.”

Thranduil nodded and eyed your hand you raised and turned over revealing the sheet of herb soaked gauze pressed to it up to your lower knuckles accepting Cedric’s help to your feet, “Been off practice a while, have to leave it on an hour,” you said at their continued glances to your hand. “Helps keep blisters at bay.”

He nodded and moved in claiming a gentle kiss from you, “As long as you are not in pain. We have herbs if you are. Those were quite hefty weights.”

You giggled saying, “Well we have to train hard to be the best.”

Again your brows furrowed making Glorfindel ask, “Are you in pain Dearest?”

“Pain comes with the territory. A bath and I’ll be fine.”

Maedhros, “You do all that for a game?”

You smirked at him replying, “Quidditch is in my blood. Long line of players. It bonds people over vast barriers of culture, language, backgrounds, countries even. It’s more than just a game.”

Amrod, “Hard to imagine a game could do that.”

“Give it some time, you might just warm up to it.” Troy and Moran led the way through your doorway heading home again as Cedric and Oliver went to their own rooms to shower and change before breakfast while you left the dissipating crowds to their whims so you could freshen up.

Random Slytherin: Huh, you actually kinda look like your brother this way.

Random Slytherin: Woa, no need to be mad at me. *leaves the dorm*