Closed Hurricane Thunderclap

[Lars van Houten]

For once, Lars was grateful for his height. He had been able to step over other people's legs on the way out of the stands fairly easily, and rushing back tot he castle also went fast with his long legs. And if he focused simply on getting there, he didn't have to think about Minnie or Elliot's reaction later, or his own reasons for heading over to the Hospital Wing to see a boy who didn't even like him. But the thought of Blake lying there all on his own was too much, and it didn't take Lars long at all to head into the Hospital Wing and locate the other boy. Only then did his steps falter as uncertainty set in. What had he been thinking? Why did he think Blake would want him here? Emma was going to kill him for missing the match, especially if for some reason she was put into play. But he was here now, it was too late to turn back. Lars took a deep breath before approaching Blake, clearing his throat to let him know he was here. "...Hi." Was all he said as he stopped at the foot of his bed.

 

[Blake van Houten]

The first few minutes after being removed from the pitch and brought to the hospital wing had all been a blur in Blake's mind, a flurry of healers and wands and potions and the painful crunch of his bones re-setting. The chaos of treatment only made the contrast once it was over starker, the complete silence of the empty hospital wing giving painful space for his feelings to finally sink in. Blake had never been knocked out of a match so thoroughly or so quickly, and for it to happen in the championship... the disappointment was almost too much to bear. Gryffindor had one of the best seekers in the school, they barely stood a chance, and even if by some miracle Paige did manage to catch the snitch... all of his glory was still gone, battered away from him by the onslaught of Gryffindor's beaters.

He had been too distracted and frazzled in the aftermath of the match to really register that he had been crying, but now... the tears ran freely down his cheeks, and even with the aches running all through his body, Blake couldn't pretend they were from anything but disappointment. Everything he had worked so hard for, taken away so easily. His father's voice echoed through his mind as he cried, berating him to, "suck it up, be a man!," but for once Blake ignored him, letting himself hurt. It wasn't like there was anyone around to see. That was, until there was. He jumped abruptly at the sound of Lars' voice, shocked to see him here. It had been a long time since Blake had had anyone who would think to visit him after an injury, and he sniffled and shivered, scrambling to wipe his face clean quickly. "Weak..." interjected the version of Blake's father in his mind but he tried to ignore it, voice lower than usual and rough from crying as he replied. "What are you doing here?"

 

[Lars van Houten]

Lars had expected anger, anger like he'd seen on the pitch when the nurses had escorted Blake away. What he hadn't expected at all was to see Blake in tears. He hadn't ever thought the boy capable of something like crying. He immediately wished he hadn't seen it. Not because he minded, but because he knew instinctively that Blake would mind. He took a small step back, shrugging at the other boy's question. "I came to see if you were okay." He said quietly. "I was watching the game. I saw you get hit." He grimaced a little. "It looked painful. I'm sorry that happened." Lars said quietly. "Does it hurt a lot?' It had to, if it affected Blake that much. Seekers were always targeted most, but Lars had been on the receiving end of a bludger before. It hadn't been nice. He couldn't imagine getting hit three times in a row, that would truly be awful.

 

[Blake van Houten]

Blake's breath shook slightly as he tried to collect himself, scrubbing the last of the tears from his eyes. Even in his embarrassment, one thought blossomed in Blake's mind. Lars had... actually been worried enough to come check on him. That was... a little bit shocking, and if Blake's heart had fluttered slightly at the thought, he would never acknowledge it. "It's... not so bad now." He mumbled, shifting a bit to sit up straighter. "They already reset all my bones and stuff." He paused, a rush of nerves flooding him. "Wait, is the match over already?!"

 

[Lars van Houten]

Lars nodded as Blake spoke, though he kind of doubted he was being truthful. It was obvious he had been crying, but Lars knew better than to point that out. "I've never been hit by three in a row." He admitted. "I don't think I would've handled it as well." He winced as the boy explained they had reset his bones. At the next question, Lars felt his cheeks heat up. It somehow felt embarrassing to admit he hadn't waited for the game to be over. "Uh, no. I kind of left in the middle of it." He said, shuffling his feet. "Sorry."

 

[Blake van Houten]

Blake shrugged awkwardly when Lars complimented him on handling the bludgers well, not sure how to react to that. "Had worse playing hockey." He lied, trying to sidestep the subject. Blake didn't actually think he had ever been injured this badly before in his life, but he wasn't about to go around advertising that. He was much more interested to hear about the match, but his heart sank as Lars explained it hadn't ended yet. "Oh." Blake mumbled, slumping back into his seat. "Doesn't matter. We've got no chance anyway, Paige hasn't ever played seeker before."

 

[Lars van Houten]

Lars looked at the boy in disbelief. "You had worse than three bludgers in a row while playing hockey?" He asked him, trying to imagine what must have happened. "That... sport is more intense than I thought." He muttered to himself. He felt almost bad about leaving the match early as he saw Blake was disappointed not to hear any news. He sighed. "Well, you do have a chance." Lars pointed out. "I know this is going to sound as blasphemy to a seeker, but there is an element of luck. If Paige spots it earlier because she happens to be closer to it, she can grab it." He told him. "And she's small, probably fast. I don't think you're as out the running as you think."

 

[Blake van Houten]

Blake shrugged when Lars questioned him on the hockey comment, trying to keep his expression light and not let on how annoyed he was that Lars had followed it up. "It's a hardcore sport." He commented dismissively, hoping the subject would drop. He sighed when Lars carried on about the game, a little surprised that he seemed to be rooting for Slytherin. "I mean, yeah." He said slowly. "But Willow's been playing for years, she's a really good seeker. I think chances are pretty low."

 

[Lars van Houten]

Lars nodded at Blake's words. "Must be." He mused. "I never played." He guessed that much was obvious. He blushed a bit. "Never been a big sports person, not before Hogwarts." He said with a shrug. He nodded as Blake went on, he had to admit Willow was more experienced. "That's true." He muttered. "At least my sister will be happy if they win. She's uh, on the team." He admitted. "Alternate beater." He added, not sure if Blake would care. "But that doesn't mean Slytherin can't still win." He added, not wanting Blake to feel worse. "And even if you don't... there's always next year?"

 

[Blake van Houten]

Blake snorted slightly when Lars said he had never been into sports. That much was obvious. "Well, contact sports are just like that. You go in knowing someone's gonna get hurt." He said idly. Blake was still pretty sure this was actually the worst he had ever been injured, but there was no chance he was admitting that to Lars. He frowned when Lars went on about the Gryffindor team, looking away in frustration. "Yeah, well next year's not good enough." He snapped. "Not everyone wants to settle for mediocrity."

 

[Lars van Houten]

Lars shook his head at Blake's word about contact sports, a small laugh escaping him. "And people do that for fun." He muttered. It was still strange to him, even now that he had grown to love Quidditch. The boy was starting to feel more at ease with Blake, but then the Slytherin just had to ruin it. Lars tensed, then crossed his arms. "I'm happy to settle for mediocrity if it means being proud of what we achieved this year." He said after a moment. "I'd choose that over wallowing." He said pointedly.