Who: Ainsley and Amir What: Extra, extra practice When: 8 April 2000 Where: The Pride practice pitch Warnings: Weird, creepy Ainsley.
"I'm not wearing ears," Amir said, probably for the third time that afternoon. "That was my first foul, so what if it wasn't perfect?"
The match had been over a week ago, but this was the first chance he'd had to drag Ainsley out alone for extra practice since then, and the first time he'd really had a chance to vent. Which is what he needed Ainsley there for, since he was flying half the pitch hitting stationary targets with bludgers just fine on his own.
"And I know Keke was teasing me, but still… I'm not a cuddly bunny. So what if I don't want to maim people?" The bludger was streaking toward him and he hit it perfectly, sending it straight into the next target with a satisfying thud. If that target had been an actual player, he may have actually maimed them.
"But you don't think I'm that soft, do you?" he asked, shouting to be heard.
Hovering a few feet away from Amir’s intended- and hit- target, Ainsley tried not to smile at Amir’s frustration. She mostly managed it as she dodged past the rebounding bludger. “You can't see your face when you're wielding that bat. ‘Soft’ isn't a word I'd use.”
She flew close enough to Amir to tug at the tail end of his broom, while the bludger pelted after her, bringing it directly into his space. Someone might accuse her of being playful, but she was just trying to prepare him for some of the tricks some players might use against him. “Ram’s horns might be more apt!” she called out. “Work out the transfiguration, in case Keke follows through.”
That was a good idea, actually. Except he'd still feel weird with them on. He spun around in time to hit the bludger, sending it soaring toward the next target. Then he turned back to Ainsley. "You know, you don't actually need to be out here," he offered. "If you wanna go home and nap or something." It wasn't exactly subtle, but he'd noticed she'd looked tired at practice and now he was having her work extra time with him.
He flew toward the returning bludger and almost lazily hit it that time. He'd have to set the targets to moving soon, but at the moment he was focused on Ainsley.
This brought her up short, stopping in mid-air. Had it been so obvious? She felt like she had a handle on things lately, or was getting a better one, but within the last few days that exhaustion had seemed to come back ten-fold. “That’s all I do is sleep,” she muttered to herself. Louder, to Amir, she said, “Nah, I’m all right. We’ll do a few more rounds, and you can work on your ‘war face’.”
He didn't know if it would be obvious to everyone, but Ainsley was his friend and aside from Keke, the teammate he was closest to. So yeah, he'd noticed. But she said she was good, so he didn't push the issue.
"Think I should set the targets to moving, then?" he asked, firing the bludger back toward one.
She pulled herself back from the spiralling thoughts, but only just. Head in the game. She could and would do this. “Yeah, all right.” A deft flick of her wand, and the targets began to move along the walls, but also around the pitch. Ainsley went into a controlled dive to entice the bludger, sort of acting like a Keeper or a Chaser- that was part of the fun of some of these extra practices, gave her the opportunity to pretend for a bit.
“Now you’ve gotten a taste of starting,” she called out to him, “how are you liking it so far?”
"Well, I'm out here, right?" Amir called back, eyeing the bludger as it followed her and intercepting it, correctly angling his hit to strike a target. It wasn't a fierce hit though, he needed to work on that. "Now that I've started starting more, I don't wanna stop."
Twice. But still, it was something. "I think I'm playing against the Cannons, so that'll be good."
“I know you’ll probably hear this, or something similar, from Bart and Ellie, but just because they’re the lowest ranked team in the league doesn’t mean you should take this any less seriously than, say, the Bats or the Magpies. A wounded animal is far more likely to be vicious than a healthy one. At this point, it’s not like they have anything left to lose.”
She did a few switchbacks on her broom, leading the bludger on a merry chase, and then intentionally performed a Narrowing foul, all but strafing past Amir’s side with the bludger hot on her tail.
Sometimes, when they were practicing together, Ainsley would cut things so close deliberately that she legitimately made Amir angry at her willingness to endanger herself for his benefit. Like getting herself in the way of his swing so he had to hold off until the very last moment, batting that thing away with a ferocity he usually saved for games.
"Bloody hell you maniac!" he shouted at her. "Stop trying to get yourself killed in practice."
Ainsley didn’t laugh, but it was a close thing. There was the fire he needed. He just needed a way to tap into it that wasn’t strictly tied to his emotions. She leveled off a few feet away, and turned back to look at him. “Can’t handle a little verisimilitude? You’ve been out here, you know what it’s like. It’s barely controlled chaos at the best of times. D’ya really want a practice that doesn’t remind you of actual game?”
“I don’t want you getting hurt,” Amir shot back. Not when she was exhausted and still helping him out. But she had a point. That was closer to a real match than most of their practices, taking real chances.
“It’s Quidditch, Amir,” she said, flying right at him, close enough so that he could see her smirk. “Getting hurt is an inevitability.”
She wiggled her fingers at him, and then dropped ten feet suddenly, revealing the bludger that had been pelting after her come rocketing toward the Beater.
That was it.
Amir hit the oncoming bludger enough to disrupt its course and then chased it down and wrestled it into his grip. “What’s wrong with you?!” he yelled at Ainsley as he flew the bludger to the case. “You’re not flying at 100 percent right now, you’re gonna get hurt.”
It was one thing for her to be in the air with him but this was reckless and he didn’t care how he came across.
She came slowly to the ground, landing lightly. For a moment, could have been a trick of the dying light, her face was oddly blank. In the next, however, she was offering him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about that. It willnae happen again. You ken how it goes when yer overtired. You all right?”
For a moment, Amir stared at Ainsley. That didn't sound like her at all, and he wasn't sure what he'd seen but something didn't sit right with him.
"Yeah," he said after a moment. "I'm fine. I'll clean up?"
Still that same smile, like it was fixed on her face. A little too sweet. “As ya like. Think I’ll pop on home, then.” Ainsley reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “Good practice. Yer a fine player.”
She walked off the pitch, broom in hand, and disappeared into the locker rooms.
With the bludger wrestled into the case, and the case locked, Amir watched Ainsley walk off. He set the targets to stop moving, but once she was out of sight he went straight to the offices, hoping by some chance someone was there.