Quidditch Quarrels Closed

@Rhys Read and @Lucian Mornstern

I promise I'll code this later T^T

It was early; probably too early for most normal people to be awake and down at the practice pitch, but Gryffindors didn't exactly fit the norm, and then again, neither did the two second year Slytherins, sitting hidden in the stands and away from the prying eyes of their peers and teachers. 


Qrow had had a very bad day; a very bad week… month? Honestly, this entire year so far had been utterly shit, and the metamorph was in some desperate need of some relaxing disassociation. It wasn't too bad, every now and again, allowing their mind to take a break and drift towards better things; besides, it wasn't as if this little habit of theirs, a habit that they shared with Lucian Mornstern - somebody they never really expected to be friends with, let alone seek out willingly and often - affected their Schooling. Qrow was still a straight O student.


Despite having had a bad… time? Through the pleasant fog that addled their brain, Qrow was still self-aware enough to know that partaking in the type of activities that themself and Luci were, probably wasn't the best of ideas during the Gryffindor's Quidditch practice, however, they were also impulsive - and stupid - enough that when they discovered non other than Rhys Read had landed a spot on their houses Quidditch team, they marched their ass, and Lucian's, down to the practice pitch. Okay, that was a lie, they hadn't exactly known that the lions practised quite so early on a Saturday morning, nor had they forgotten the rather awkward evening they had with Rhys during the fall ball, however, whatever terms the pair were on at the moment were swiftly ignored in favour of watching the Gryff practise.


Qrow loathed how much Rhys had changed; they were prettier, more graceful, and had lost that fiery spark that had brought them together last year. Everything about them was wrong and yet Qrow still couldn’t help the way that their heart sped up whenever the other student glanced their way.


Clutched in the white haired students hand, was a black and green metal bottle, filled with whatever drink the Slytherin had managed to steal from their dad's liquor collection in the family cellar; it was a vast collection and their fathers wouldn't notice, especially considering their busyness with the newest addition to the family. 

Despite his shy nature, Xackary was a very energetic little boy, and a werewolf at that; It was no wonder that the snake’s fathers had their hands full with the boy.

Lucian on the other hand, likely had a little old fashioned case on him somewhere, something he had probably stolen from his grandfather; Qrow remembered seeing something similar the last time they were forced to attend an event at their grandmother's house; a small silver cigar case that had once belonged to their grandfather; it was a shame that they hadn't had the time to read the inscription.


The two had been sharing the bottle, alternating sips between them most of the night and the amber liquid was beginning to dwindle. Neither snake had slept much, Qrow due to their worsening insomnia, made even worse by the nightmares that had begun to Plague their sleep whenever they could drift off, and Lucian was likely wired from the drawing closeness of the next full moon; upon finding out about their companions state, Qrow delved back into their magical creatures obsession and dug into anything they could about lycanthropy; their research was only pushed forward during the christmas holidays upon being introduced to their new little brother, and they had a long list of questions lined up to ask Lucian at some point. They had spent their night wandering the castle; honestly, if the pairs - and sometimes trio with the addition of Nora - little adventures were going to become a reoccurring thing, one of them were going to have to invest in an invisibility cloak.


A cigarette was between their lips now, and Qrow lit it with the tip of their wand, before taking a long drag, holding it for a moment then exhaling. The first time they had tried it, Lucian had pulled one out of seemingly nowhere and started smoking like he had been doing it for years. When the boy had offered them one - in return for the liquor he could apparently smell - Qrow had accepted, not wanting to seem ‘uncool’. 


Qrow didn’t smoke.

It wasn’t as if they were particularly opposed to it, but they had never touched a cigarette.

Qrow didn’t smoke, simply because they felt that they weren't that pathetic just yet.


But after the death of their mother and the fast approaching tidal wave of their everyday life that was threatening to pull them under, Qrow suddenly realised that the white object in their hand was surprisingly not that bad after all.


So cigarettes use these weaknesses to take you down, huh… they wondered.


How the mighty had fallen, the heir to three different pure-blood families respected by many despite their scandalous family situation, the flickering light at the heart of their household, defeated by this little cancer stick. How pathetic…


The flickering flame protruding from their wand laughed in their face, and nonetheless, the white haired snake cupped their hands together and brought the flame closer to the cigarette on their lips, inhaling as the tip caught fire.


They exhaled.

Nothing happened.

Yes, when hot air suddenly surged down their throat, it felt sore. Their mouth dried, and there was nothing left on their tongue but a faint, bitter aftertaste of long forgotten dust. Apart from that, nothing special. Not as special as they used to believe. Not enough to untangle the mess of knots that seemed to constantly plague their mind nowadays.

Annoyed, angry and upset, they bit down hard on the filter taking a long drag, then coughing violently. They continued, again.

Lucian had laughed at them as they coughed and sputtered for a moment, but Qrow carried on, just like that, again and again, until they felt like their body was floating, like they were going to dissolve into pretty pieces of coloured glass.


And suddenly they didn't feel the headache anymore.


Inhale.

Sweet smoke curls around each cell structure in their lungs, and Lucian’s faded laughter is replaced with someone else's, echoing like a recorded tape, and resonating clearly in their ears.


Exhale.

Their nostrils dilate as they lean a little backwards,

before them is a vast, green grassland shrouded by a thin veil of smoke, 

is the proud ditsy grin that frames a pale face, 

is the messy firy hair, streaked with patches of white and drenched in sunlight, 

is the gleeful laugh that contains all the warmth of a sweet summer afternoon when there were just the two of them.


“Come on, wee lamb, keep up.”


They bark out a laugh at the memory, watching through the stands frame, as a bludger goes flying towards one of the soaring Gryffindors, before handing their bottle back to Lucian.


They weren’t quite sure when their relationship with Lucian had become so… familiar? His company was nice, even when his words weren’t, and at this point, Qrow needed the company. His honesty was pleasant, refreshing even, and though their outlooks on many things didn’t always align, the dark haired boy was beginning to become a comfort; or maybe he was a crutch? Someone to lean on. They were similar in a sense, both creatures of change, forced by an upper-class society to fit a mould that didn’t always fit; when it was just the two of them, they were both free to be themselves, whoever those two individuals were.

As much as Qrow loved the pantheon, loved Nora, she didn’t have the same life that Qrow and Luci shared; she would never be able to relate to them in the same way that he did. Is this what their fathers relationship with his sister was like?

The man had never kept hidden the way that his sister and him were raised, and Qrow fondly remembered how happy their aunt was whenever she visited; of course, she couldn’t visit anymore.


Qrow took a long drag of their cigarette, suddenly acknowledging the silence of the pitch.


The Gryffindors had finished their practice and were getting ready to leave. Somewhere besides them, they felt Lucian move. 

Was he trying to hide or get up?


The younger Slytherin moved from their spot and peeked through the door to the staircase that they were sitting in, watching as quidditch robes of crimson and gold walked past. 

That's when they spotted Rhys Read.


They weren’t sure what was more to blame for their decision, their general hatred of leaving anything unknown - and after a very awkward boat ride, Qrow was rather unsure of where they stood with their friend - or whether the liquid buzz had destroyed any remaining functioning brain cells in their head; either way, the metamorphs body had moved down the few stairs they had climbed up, and out the door before they had really thought it through and suddenly, they found themselves leaning on the doorframe and shouting at the back of the Gryffindor’s head, their thick mixed accent cutting through the silence.


“Heya firecracker!”