Human Design | Sirius Black

ii. Quidditch Game + Teenage Crisis = Not Good

WHEN SATURDAY CAME, the sky was still fogged over with the darkness that seemed to cling around the Scottish Highland like a child hugging their mother for the first time. Although it wasn't that early for Reece as he tends to be up at an ungodly hour every morning, still despite the darkness he didn't feel particularly tired

Instead, he was almost angry that the first thing on his mind wasn't Quidditch. It was the day of the match, he was captain, and he was supposed to be focused; if he wasn't focused, neither would the rest of his team be.

Winning was important; the larger the margin they did win with, the easier it would be to win Gryffindor in May and that would be absolutely necessary, not just because Gryffindor was their hardest competition and he wanted to win the Cup to graduate on a high note

Also, he had enough pride to not want to give Sirius thirty-five galleons considering his family was already swimming in money, and besides, the boy could really use slight deflation of his ego. And yet, waking up, even three days after the conversation, his mind was still screaming the words,' You're gay'. Even when he tried to not focus on it as much and go about his mundane daily routine of classes and studying for exams

(He was waiting like a powder keg for Dris or Orla to bring it again. Though neither said a word more about it)

A groan left his lips when he rolled over onto his back and though it was quiet, it sounded like a scream in the quiet dormitory. Reece was always the first of his five roommates to wake up.

He was also the tidiest of the boys in the dormitory, being high enough in social class for his parents to care about appearances but not high enough for a house-elf. Dris Adoti, who was out of school and lived with his mother and younger brother in Hackney, London, had more or less plastered his section of wall with football posters and his trunk was always open to show the mess inside.

Benjy Fenwick had two pairs of shoes (and one shoe without a pair) strewn across the floor around his bed and there was an assortment of packets of tea along with mugs (far too many mugs for any one person to own) on top of the shelf above his nightstand because he always craved tea beyond meal times. 

However, neither of the two were anywhere in the same league as Alexander Ryan, Joshua López, and Connor Lonsdale, who were all on the Quidditch team with Reece. The three of them came to school in September and didn't clean a single time until they packed up for Christmas, leaving clothes and empty chocolate frog packets all over the room. 

Thus, even if Reece had not been something of a neat freak, he would still have looked like one in juxtaposition to the others.

Indeed, as he got out of bed to get down on the floor beside it for his morning fifty sit- and push-ups, there was a pair of socks and a half-empty packet of Bertie Bott's every flavour beans at the base of his trunk and Reece kicked them away so that each flew across the floor to skid to a halt somewhere else in the room. He didn't care if they were messy but they could at least have the courtesy to keep the mess on their side of the dorm.

An hour later, Reece was seated on the edge of his bed, dressed in his Quidditch robe with his chest, shoulder, and knee pads and helmet on his right and broom on his left. His eyes were fixated on the clock on the wall beside the door of the dormitory. It was three minutes still seven and he watched the second hand go round in circles, waiting, giving his team the chance to wake up on their own.

None of them did. And thus, when the minute hand fell onto twelve, Reece raised his wand and a blare like that from an air horn rung through the room. A screeching sound that was terrible to even Reece's ears, caused all his dormmates to jerk awake although none of them moved.