The Founders

Chapter 20

Kyra hated being Keeper. Any game where balls fly at my nose. She sat astride one of the school broomsticks, which were uncomfortable and clunky, clinging on with freezing fingers until someone came speeding right at her. Then she had to try blocking the attack by catching the hard ball with her frozen fingertips; it was incredibly painful.

This was made worse by the fact that Alexander actually was an excellent chaser. He seemed to find it hilarious to dodge her defences, score, and then heckle her as he flew away. She had never seen him so animated, she thought with mild chagrin as she let in yet another goal.

Kat, who was seeker for the other team, swooped beside Kyra and called, "Wow, I think my 7-year-old sister plays better than you."

"Then get her to be your stupid keeper," she yelled at Kat's retreating back.

A second later a bludger came pelting at her and she looked up, a deer in headlights. Out of nowhere, Alexander swung into her field of view and raised both hands from his broom to catch it as with a thump it careened into his plexus. He doubled over, winded and clutching the bludger, before throwing it hard in the other direction.

Kyra yelled at him from a distance. "Well, that was pretty stupid, Alex, I would have dodged."

Still doubled over and winded, he wheezed, "You looked pretty stationary to me." Kyra went back to her goalpost.

A fat drop of rain slid down her cheek, which she wiped away with her wrist. The sky was bright and grey, clouds quickly shifting across the sky, but as she looked, the rain became denser, sweeping down and driven by the wind from the mountains. After five minutes, it had turned into a sheeting torrent. Kat finally decided that they should call it a day.

Squelching back to the castle in a group, Kyra straggled behind, wincing from sitting on a broomstick for so long. Alexander dropped back to match her pace. "Why can't you transfigure me an umbrella now?" she complained through gritted teeth, water streaming through her eyelashes as she tried to look up at him.

"Gamps Second Law of Transfiguration. You can't conjure something from nothing. And since all we have are our clothes..." He let the end of his sentence hang delicately, giving her a sidelong smile, his eyes glimmering with laughter.

"I didn't know you were capable of making dirty jokes," she responded, shaking her head. "Honestly, it doesn't fit with the whole mystique, lone ranger thing you've got going."

"You think I should drop it? Stick to being silent and brooding?" He asked, playing along.

"Oh, definitely. At least, the silent bit, for sure. If you want my advice, just don't even open your mouth. But keep up the dramatic exits, they work really well."

He laughed loudly and she grinned sideways at him. "Too far, Havard," he said, shaking his head. She jolted slightly, hearing that surname. "Leave me some dignity, please."

She shrugged a shoulder and opened her mouth to deliver some quip, before cutting herself off. "Oh, shit," she said, rifling through her sodden pockets. She glanced back up at Alexander, blinking out water from her eyelashes. Rain dripped from the ends of his hair and over his cheeks. "I need to go back to the changing rooms; I think I left my wand there. I can meet you guys back at the castle."

"It's okay," he replied, shrugging the shoulder on which he had propped his broom. "I'm already soaked through, so it doesn't make a difference."

They turned their steps back towards the quidditch pitch, the others in the distance being swallowed by the dusk and rain.