The Slytherin Transfer

48: "There are worse things to lose than control."

"You call that a hit? My grandmother does more damage with her purse!"

I make eye contact with Marcus, but he shakes his head. James has been this irritable all practice, and everyone knows why. It's difficult not to say anything as he rips into us, but even Dorcas has managed to keep her mouth shut.

Dasher, who had just been shouted at to hit Emmeline harder, turns beet red and returns to the back of the line.

It's been two days since the full moon, and though Remus returned from where he had been hiding out at Hagrid's, he hasn't spoken a word to anyone, and he refuses to. James now isn't talking to Sirius, and so the boys have completely fallen apart. It's hard to say who's taking it the hardest. James has just been expelling his anger on other people, Sirius has been losing sleep and eating less, Remus has been hiding away between classes and looks a lot recently as though he's been crying, and Peter doesn't know who to side with, though it seems as if he's maybe chosen James.

Meanwhile Mary and Marlene still aren't speaking, and Alice spends all her time with Frank. Lily, Dorcas, and I are the only sane ones, but it's only by a thread that we're holding on.

"Is that all you've got!" James shouts as I shoulder Marcus, "Put some elbow grease into it!"

"Oh, I'd like to put my elbow somewhere all right," I mutter darkly as I return to the back of the line, and Marcus chuckles.

"Is something funny, Borden?" James shouts angrily, flying closer to the queue. Marcus shakes his head in a mock fearful manner.

"No, sir!" he speaks like a soldier, "only the extent to our failure, sir!"

We all laugh, and James narrows his eyes at us.

"Do you guys fancy losing to Ravenclaw?" He asks us all, "Slytherin beat them, and so they have nearly more points than us! If they beat Hufflepuff, and we lose to Ravenclaw, Slytherin wins! Is that what you guys want?"

"Sir, no sir!" We all shout, and there's more laughing. James turns a shade of pink.

"That's it, you guys aren't taking this seriously enough." He shakes his head, "Give me five laps! If you're not back in three minutes you're doing it without brooms!"

We all groan in protest, but when we see him starting his watch, we're off without further complaint.

Practice ends up being an hour longer than it's supposed to, and we're only kicked off when Hufflepuff comes for their practice. We all flop onto the benches, sweaty and dirty and exhausted.

"It's a crime to have to run during a quidditch practice," Caradoc grumbles, "if Potter doesn't straighten out his problems, then he's gonna have one with me."

"Lay off him, he's menstruating," defends Marcus, "It's a difficult time, becoming a woman."

They both snicker, taking off their shirts and heading for the showers. I smile and shake my head, unlacing my boots as Dorcas takes a seat next to me.

"You have to talk to him," she accuses, and I frown.

"Why?"

"Because," she presses, "we won't win like this. We need to be doing drills. He's a great captain, but he's out of it."

"No, I mean why do I have to talk to him," I rephrase, glancing out the flap of the tent just in time to see James trip on his robes and release a string of swear words into the open air, throwing down his broom like a child, "why can't you?"

Dorcas looks at me, then bursting into laughter.

"Right, because I'm the best at the comforting game," she says, standing up and shaking her head with more laughter before heading to the showers as well. Then it's just me and Dasher, and as James gets closer to the change rooms, I give Mary's little brother a look, and he scampers away as well.