The Collision Theory | Remus Lupin

06. Latecomers and Soft Landings

James sulks all night, and Sirius doesn't help. He keeps making up ballads, though my particular favourite is 'Forever Alone'.
Mum and dad finally stopped talking with the Potters and declared that it was time for bed around nine, and I'm pretty sure they exchanged numbers.

"Nanight Novak! Don't let the nargles bite!" Sirius sings. I only give an over enthusiastic wave back.

"What the Hell are nargles?" Miriam whispers once were out of earshot.

I shrug, climbing the stairs, "No idea."

My mother stops at the door to our room, "Your father and I were going to give you two these at dinner, but we were unfortunately cut off."

She takes out two shards of glass from her handbag, and hands one each to me and Mim. I see my reflection in the slim shard, but my eyes aren't green they're hazel. Miriam is the one who has green eyes...

"Two-way mirrors, you can talk to each other through it. Keep it safe, they're very valuable." Dad says. mum wipes her eye quickly.

"I...err...thanks." I smile.

"No matter what happens, don't you two drift apart alright?" Mum puts on one of those skills that mask other super meanings.
EMOTIONS ALERT EMOTIONS DETECTED.
I think Miriam notices as well, and we hug them quickly and say our thanks, before they usher us into our room.

It's all a blur as I hastily get my pyjamas on- an old muggle band shirt and shorts- and get into my side of the bed. Miriam buries herself deep into the pillows, and I keep as far away from her as possible. The last time we had to share a bed she actually kicked me in the face while sleeping.

*

"And the quaffle goes to Blakely!" The commentator screams, "But oh! Gryffindor's caught sight of the snitch! And Ravenclaw too!"

I feel the handle of my broom shudder as I force it straight upwards, ignoring the creaking sound coming from the mantle.
Ravenclaw cannot win now.
Not when we're so close.
The second commentator is literally screeching "Novak at the lead, small and a great seeker for a fourth year!"

The snitch suddenly drops down, and I almost topple off in an attempt to keep up with it. The Ravenclaw seeker is right by me, or shoulders literally touching, "I'm gonna get this bitch."

"Ex-" but before my fourteen year old self can reply to this sorry excuse of a player, he elbows me in the jaw. In a moment of pure shock I let go of my broom, and suddenly it's no longer under me.

"FOUL PLAY! NOVAK DOWN! OH GOD!"

I bolt up from the bed sweating and out of breath. It takes a few moments to gather my senses, "You're good... You're fine... You're alive."

My quidditch days were over in fourth year, December the sixteenth, when Emris Thompson pushed me off of my broom. I run my hand over the left side of my torso, where the raised skin of scars form crooked lightning bolt-like shapes. Three broken ribs and a crippling fear of heights was what I was left with.

"Aylin? Why you up?" Miriam mumbles, still half asleep.

"Nothing, you sleep alright? I'm going to go and take a shower, I'll wake you up when it's time." I whisper, knowing a fully rested little sister is much better than a cranky one.

The shower head splutters and makes a noise like a dying animal before forcing out water. I know better than to go straight in, and my suspicions turn out right. The water takes a few minutes to turn from ice cold Antarctic ocean to warm and usable. I'm just through washing my hair when the shower decides that the Antarctic pneumonia temperature is a good temperature to revert back to, "Merlin's balls! Shit!"