Getting him back - Scorbus Fanfiction

Albus- Part 7

"Stupid teacher gave me two weeks of detention- just for knocking Scorpio around a bit. What kind of institution is this? One that doesn't allow a bit of rough and tumble from time to time!" Atticus sighed and picked up his goblet of pumpkin juice, gulping and slurping. We were sat in the Great Hall, the waxing candles were hovering above our heads. Roy's quidditch friends had joined us for dinner, and some were actually good company. I had continued to act like I had never confronted Atticus because I was a wimp.
Quidditch had been surprisingly fun recently. We rarely practised with the school team players so the majority of the time the games were in good spirit. Albeit it got competitive in terms of tricks, like walking on broomsticks and head butting quaffles. One boy mistook a bludger for a quaffle, proceeded to header it then was knocked off his broom onto the sand below. He stood up straight away, brushing the sand off him and snorting "I'm okay!". I recognised him as one of the boys my father had introduced me to.
"Who can get through the hoop first? Let's race!" one of the boys suggested. Ten or so people lined up on one side of the arena, opposites to the three hoops. I cautiously joined them, as Madame Hooch wasn't paying attention.
"Whoever wins gets to, uh I don't know, one galleon from each of us. And the losers get to carry all the brooms to put away!"
I didn't have Quidditch class with many people I knew, even Atticus and Roy's friends weren't in the class. In a moment of adrenaline, partly because I knew no-one in the race and partly because I had nothing to lose, I joined the race. Ten boys and girls hovered by one set of hoops, between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw stands. One girl was stood on the ground about 30 ft below, clutching a whistle poised in her mouth. "On your marks, get set...GO!".
I began to hurtle towards the hoop, having no intention of winning but desperately not wanting to be last. The wind whistled past my ears and my eyes stung with tears. As if this was not enough, there was another element to this race some of the people had failed to mention- people were whacking quaffles and bludgers at us. In the midst of this race-turned-lethal-dodgeball-match, I kept my eye on the hoop, swerving out the way of flying objects, and I wondered if maybe I was winning. I gave it a split second before quickly looking over my shoulder to see just six of the ten participants still in the air and that I was leading them. Proud of myself I turn-THWACK! I blacked out for a second, losing all control of my broom. I had been hit by a bludger in the head and had lost all balance. I rocked back and forth like a boat about to capsize, using all my core strength to stay upright, still travelling at the fastest I had ever flown. In the split second I'd blacked out, however, a Gryffindor named Phillip had caught up with me. I was out of control and now only one of us would make it through the fast-approaching large hoop. My heart was racing, my head desperately trying to evaluate the risk. Rationality out of the window, I told myself I would have to go through the small hoop beside the big hoop. I couldn't pull up in enough time to make it over the larger goalpost so my only option was seemingly the one half the size. 

No, no, no! I thought to myself, as I veered downwards, clearly to Phillips surprise. Somehow gaining speed, I knew I would be knocked off, 30ft downwards to a painful fall. Phillip had slowed down, assuming I had yeilded, completely unaware of my imminent dilemma. The post was 10 foot, 9 foot.. and I still wasn't low enough. What happened next was a daze...
Five foot, my head posed to make contact with the top of the ring, four foot, bracing for impact, 3 foot, holding my breath and closing my eyes, 2 foot, all muscles clenched, one foot...suddenly I decided to loosen the my thigh grip around the broom handle causing me to roll upside down, hanging from the broom as the world flipped around me. My eyeline no longer faced the top of the hoop, instead there was no longer a hoops, no longer and arena, just the landscape surrounding Hogwarts.
I must've died- there was no way I made it thr- no there's not a chance- what? I hoisted my upright again and turned around. Phenomenally, I had pasted through the smallest hoop, unscathed. The rest of the class was cheering and Phillip thumped me on the back cheerfully.
"That was quite a stunt- wow- I could never have done that!" He smiled sincerely before whizzing back into the arena where everyone was silent for some reason. And then I realised. Madame Hooch has been staring at me the whole time.
"Potter!" she screeched, more concerned than angry, "What exactly do you think you're doing, showing off like that?"
"Um, uh, I'm not entirely sure, I didn't mean to, we were just having a quick race?" I pleaded, avoiding eye contact with then rest of the class. Then I realised.
"Oh, um, not race, well kind of, it was just me really, no one else was involved- they were all doing the exercises, no, uh drills! That's it!"
"So, you were racing yourself alone, Potter? Isn't that a bit strange?"
"Yes, yes it is, I guess." I turned to see all the thankful faces, people saved from detention by me making a fool of myself. I still didn't know if I had won the race or not- but it didn't matter because I was in trouble now.
"See me after class, Potter, I ought to speak to you." I nodded meekly.