Jay Singleton | Tutshill Tornadoes | Seeker (seekingjay) wrote in quidditchprose, @ 2014-02-26 18:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | jay singleton |
Who: Jay Singleton
What: Prompt Challenge - Rain
Where: Montrose Stadium
When: May 1987
Rating: Low
Status: Complete [Narrative]
"But where's Mum?" Jay asked, not for the first or last time that afternoon.
His dad laughed, a warm rumbling sound that came from deep in his belly. "You'll see," was all he said, tidying the robes Jay wore fixing the scarf around his neck. "Do you want some pumpkin juice?"
Jay nodded eagerly, following his dad to the stands where some wizard with bright blue hair and magpies on his cheeks gave them both a cup. Another wizard passed by, wearing a tray full of chocolate frogs and Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans and all kinds of candies. Jay tugged on his dad's robes until he noticed, shaking his head and picking up a chocolate frog-- ("Just one," he reminded Jay with as much sternness as an indulging father could muster.)
They found their way back to their seats-- because it was May and they were in Scotland, it had started to lightly drizzle, but the spell was easy enough to cast-- with Jay's mum still nowhere in sight.
"But where is she?" Jay asked again, and his dad just told him to wait and see.
"But she's gonn' miss the match!"
Jay's dad laughed. "Oh, trust me," he said. "She won't."
He couldn't remember now who the Magpies had been up against-- Caerphilly? Holyhead? Kenmare? They wore green, was what he remembered-- but their players were announced one by one, to loud boos from the crowd, and then the Magpies were up next. Jay knew that was the team they cheered for, he was wearing their colours after all, but he blinked when a a blur of grey sped past the stands and--
"And tonight's Seeker for the Montrose Magpies: Ariel Speedy Singleton!"
"That's mum!" Jay shrieked, jumping from his seat and pointing, his little hands flailing wildly in the air. "Mum's the Seeker!"
Jay's dad laughed and nodded, then he made Jay sit down so the people behind them could see what was going on. The light shower turned into a soaking rain, too strong to be kept away by basic charms, but Jay refused to move from their seat.
His dad didn't mind.
Who: Jay Singleton
What: Prompt Challenge - Away
Where: Singleton Household
When: February 1991
Rating: Low
Status: Complete [Narrative]
"Mummy's going away for a little while, love," Ariel said, smiling at Jay. Her hand was on his cheek and she looked like she wanted to say more, but Jay didn't know what. "Don't miss me too much."
"I won't," Jay said. His mother went away a lot-- he was used to this by now. She played Quidditch and sometimes it meant she stayed overnight at some places to get ready for her matches. She always came back, and besides, his dad made lasagna those nights. Jay loved his dad's lasagna. And sometimes he let Max come over and stay the night, without curfew. He wasn't worried at all.
But it seemed to be the wrong thing to say, because his mother's face tightened. The smile was still there-- it never left-- but it didn't look like she was smiling at Jay any more. Had he said something wrong?
"That's right, you're a big boy now," she said at last. "You're so grown up."
"We'll be fine, Ari," his father said, pulling Jay's mother up and hugging her tightly before kissing her. Jay's mother murmured something that sounded almost like a sob, but Jay couldn't catch the words. He frowned and looked at his dad-- What was wrong with her? he wanted to ask-- but his dad only gave him a smile.
"Why don't you see if Max can come over and play meanwhile, huh?" his dad asked.
Jay nodded, taking one more look at his mother, before he ran out.
Who: Jay Singleton
What: Prompt Challenge - Red
Where: World Cup Grounds
When: August 25, 1994
Rating: Low
Status: Complete [Narrative]
They'd decided to stay a little while longer, even though the American National Team had been eliminated early on. Jay's mum seemed to be in high spirits nonetheless, cheering on for her teammates on both the Irish and Bulgarian squads. Jay had both Lynch and Krum bobbleheads in either hand, clutching them both tight as he watched with bated breath, cheering loudly when Krum caught the snitch but Ireland won. (He didn't know why he was cheering, same way he couldn't understand why his mother played for the Americans but told him he'd be playing for England-- "But England are terrible," he'd complained, to his parents' amusement.)
They let him stay up late, finding some Irish fans by their tent with some of his mum's mates. Jay couldn't remember when he slept but it must not have taken very long. He dozed off, curled up against his father's chest and wrapped in a red blanket, the only one in the sea of green.
He didn't know when he woke, but when he did it was because he was being jostled awake, and there were loud noises, and there was red everywhere-- he didn't understand why until he realised it was the red of fire, the red of blood, the red of malicious spells crackling in the air. His dad was carrying him and they were running away from the campground, Jay watching what they were leaving behind.
"Dad--"
"It's okay, Jay," his dad said, and Jay saw his mother come up behind them, blocking his view. She gave him a smile and nodded. There was a halo of red-orange light around her hair and in his sleep-filled state he thought, she looked like an angel.
They found a spot far away from the crowds, the three of them huddled together in the dark. The grounds didn't look all that fun anymore, when daylight finally came.
Who: Jay Singleton
What: Prompt Challenge - Flowers
Where: St. Mungo's
When: December 25, 1995
Rating: Low
Status: Complete [Narrative]
There were so many flowers in the ward when he woke. No presents, even though it was Christmas Day. (Jay didn't care that it was Christmas and he wasn't getting presents-- he just knew it was Christmas, the way one would know it was a Tuesday.) There were Christmas crackers though, and pudding, and Jay's grandparents (both sides) huddled around in an awkward circle of uncomfortable chairs and even more uncomfortable smiles.
And flowers. Loads of them. Enough that they filled the room with a sickly sweet scent.
It was the flowers or the ward, Jay couldn't tell. The flowers were overcrowding the small nightstand beside his dad's bed, and then filling the room where there was space.
"Merry Christmas," they told him, but there was nothing merry at all about the occasion.
His dad made jokes, the way he often did. His mother talked about the coming matches, the way she usually did. His grandparents asked after Hogwarts, and Slytherin ("First one in the family!") and his favourite classes, and he answered those questions like they mattered, like they weren't in St. Mungo's smelling of sickness and stupid flowers instead of pudding and roast.
They made him take the train back to Hogwarts, when the holidays were over.
Jay hated not being in that hospital ward even more.
Who: Jay Singleton
What: Prompt Challenge - Loss
Where: Singleton Household
When: June 1996
Rating: Low
Status: Complete [Narrative]
"We're sorry for your loss," they'd said. Same words, same exact sentence, over and over and over again, until its meaning blurred into a dull and repetitive echo in his head.
"We're sorry for your loss," they'd said, so many times and in such low, hushed tones that Jay wanted to scream, to tell them to go away, to run away himself. They had no idea what they were talking about. They said it like a prayer, uttered only because that's what they knew to say. But they didn't mean it, and even if they did, what would their sorry do? What did it matter what they felt? What they said?
"We're sorry for your loss," they'd said, and the words still echoed strongly in Jay's head long after the service was over, long after the funeral was done. It's the refrain drumming in the background while he made dinner for two, while the armchair stayed unbearably empty, while he locked his door at night so his mother didn't try talking to him-- that was what dad did, that was dad's job, she shouldn't even be trying. It was what he thought to himself, the same dull throb of senseless words as he picked up his textbooks alone (his mother had wanted to come with him, but why should she, she was only going to be flocked by fans and press and everyone who knew her), as he stared at the empty spot beside his mother when he got on the train to Hogwarts. It was what he told himself when the first owls came and the package his mother sent him bore no note in his dad's familiar scrawl.
"Hey, sorry about the loss," a Ravenclaw Chaser told him just after a 250-130 match and a split second right before Jay's closed fist connected hard with his jaw.
Who: Jay Singleton
What: Prompt Challenge - Snitch
Where: Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch
When: mid-September 1999
Rating: Low
Status: Complete [Narrative]
If Max had thought it weird that Jay didn't want to come with him to Hogsmeade because he had schoolwork to catch up on, he didn't say so. In fact, he'd nodded and let Jay act like he was getting away with a blatant lie, telling Jay yes, he'd bring him back something from Zonko's or Honeyduke's.
Whichever one he bought anything from didn't matter to Jay. What mattered was that nobody was around that afternoon (nobody but first and second years, anyway), which meant he had the pitch to himself. No superior sneering from Urquhart, who'd picked those two lumbering oafs to Beat just because they had "the upper body strength to actually lift the bats and swing it in the air, Singleton".
That he was never going to be a Beater on the Slytherin squad was crystal clear to him then, as it should have been the first time he'd shown up to tryouts and Malfoy had snorted and waved his hand dismissively, but let him warm the bench. Jay had thought he'd get his chance to prove it, that eventually Goyle and Crabbe would prove too stupid to play. But he'd underestimated how much more important politics was compared to winning, and none of the other boys on the team would train with him at practice. He'd never even had the satisfaction of subbing in for an injury, because as much as the Slytherin beaters were dumb, they were also frustratingly durable. No amount of collisions or bludgers to the head could take them down.
There was no place for him on the team unless he wanted to be a Seeker. The position was only open because Harper had decided to quit, and Urquhart had only mentioned it to Jay because he knew, that smarmy git, that Jay really had his heart set on Beating.
So screw him, because Jay was going to do it. Max was right; he'd done his time on the bench, and he had it in his blood to Seek. Why shouldn't he try to get playing time like that? Did he want to be one-half of a Beating pair with Max? Yes, absolutely. But if it had to come down to sticking it out with Beating or taking the opportunity to play, and maybe one day playing on a team with Max, well. There was more than one way to skin a cat, wasn't there?
That was how he found himself on the pitch, late one Saturday morning when most of the school had gone to Hogsmeade. He'd picked out the snitch from the Quidditch shed-- Madam Hooch never took security that seriously, for some reason. It squirmed and fluttered in his closed palm, tickling his skin there. If this didn't work out--
He took a deep breath, releasing it into the air and, without thinking any more, took off after it.
Who: Jay Singleton
What: Prompt Challenge - Cold
Where: Singleton household
When: December 23, 1999
Rating: Low
Status: Complete [Narrative]
There was something wrong with the charms again.
There had always been something wrong with the charms. For some reason, the heating in the Singlehold household had never been cast right, but for the most part, that was something that Jay's dad used to fix. He was handy with charms, his dad was. One swish was all it took, and then eventually the warmth would seep in. Of course, he'd had to do it again every couple hours, but he had the ability to do it.
They'd never gotten the charms right since. Jay's mum called in a special charmer, once, to take a look around the house. He'd said there was nothing wrong with it and suggested, if they still had issues, to hook it up with the Muggle connections and use heat the Muggle way. But something still interfered in the heat there that even that was a wash.
"Maybe this house just runs cold," he'd said.
He was a tosser who didn't know what he was doing, Jay had thought.
There was something wrong with the charms and neither Jay nor his mum could do much about it. He'd come back from Hogwarts for the holidays and been wandering about wrapped in fleece blankets. That was how his mum found him, bent over a textbook and pretending to do homework.
"Hey Jay," she said, leaning against the door of his room, a thick shawl wrapped around her shoulders. "Fancy a hot chocolate?"
"What?"
"I was looking through the pantry," Jay's mum explained. Her smile was soft but it looked sad. "Finally saw where your dad kept his secret recipes. I was thinking, well, we could try the hot chocolate?"
"Oh."
"It's fine if you don't want to, I just--"
"Oh, no, no, I was-- yes, I'd like some," Jay added hastily, realising that his silence might have seemed like disinterest. And then he added, somewhat sheepishly, "Do you need some help?"
Jay's mum smiled. "Yes. I'd like that too."
Who: Jay Singleton & Sara [NPC]
What: Prompt Challenge - Kiss
Where: The Restricted Section haha no not really Hogwarts Library
When: November 2000
Rating: Low (PG for language and kissing?)
Status: Complete [Narrative]
"Jay!"
Jay jolted to attention, his knee thumping painfully against the desk and his hand flinging outward, accidentally the ink pot over and spilling black ink all over the table and then, as though in slow motion, all over Sara's uniform.
"Aw, shit, Sara, I'm so sorry," he apologised. Leave it to him to ruin the clothes of the last Ravenclaw who was both smart enough to continue tutoring him in his NEWTs revision (all he needed was a passing mark and he was a free man, was that so hard to ask?) and yet, could also stand teaching him. Or just, well, being around him.
But Sara was the patient kind, one of those weird Ravenpuff hatstalls, who just rolled her eyes anytime Jay spoke too abruptly and got him to focus on the actual topic on hand every time Jay threatened to divert the conversation to more interesting things, like Quidditch or the last match or the next Hogsmeade weekend or Max or Quidditch.
Even now, with ink staining her clothes, she was remarkably calm. People like her just didn't exist, Jay thought. Or they were serial killers in their spare time. She must take her aggression out somehow, somewhere.
"Why aren't you yelling at me yet?" Jay wanted to know. The zen reaction was getting kind of eerie.
Sara snorted, gesturing to his wand. "Since we were already discussing advanced Charms," she said, leaving behind the small fact that Jay had been in the process of falling asleep while Sara was having that one-sided conversation, "Why don't you show me how to fix this up?"
"Are you sure about that?" Jay asked. He was fine with basic cleaning spells-- he was old enough to know those-- "I could do more damage to your uniform."
"I trust you," she said simply.
"Whatever weird teaching trick you think you're pulling on me?" Jay asked. "It's not likely to work. I'm not that kind of student."
"Come on," Sara said, patting the seat beside her. "You know how to do it. Draw the first syllables out, loosen your wrist, and flick it fast."
Jay smirked. "That's what she said."
"Jay."
"Alright, alright," he said, scooting over and taking a deep breath. He tapped the tip of his wand against the stain once, just to psyche himself up. "If this ends up with you naked from the waist up--"
"Just do it," Sara urged, and thusly coaxed, Jay recited the spell as they'd been taught, following the movements Sara had shown him. Merlin be damned, it worked, too, but Sara didn't act like she even noticed. "Besides," she continued, "that's a completely different spell with utterly different wand movements."
Jay's head shot up, his eyes locking with Sara's. "There's a spell for that?"
The smile Sara gave him did not look like the smile a Ravenpuff hatstall would have. That was the last thought he had before Sara's fingers found his shirt and tugged him forward, closing the gap between their lips.
Who: Jay Singleton
What: Prompt Challenge - Next
Where: Puddlemere Stadium
When: Training camp, 2002 season
Rating: Low
Status: Complete [Narrative]
There were many ways that Jay had imagined this chapter of his life would go. In most of them, his dad would still be around, dropping him off and embarrassing him in front of the team's first stringers and staff members with his fatherly words of wisdom and proud tears. His mother would be right there, of course, and she was right now, but she'd been where he was and her belief in him was less emotional, more like a colleague's.
Of course you'd be hired by a squad, her smile said. You're my son. They'd be a fool not to recruit you.
In the other fantasies, it would be a bat he carried with him, not the lucky snitch that his mother had placed in his pocket. (It wasn't even his lucky snitch-- it was hers-- though he appreciated the sentiment.) The bat would have been worn, repaired and worn through and repaired again, and he'd be carrying it on one arm and Max would be carrying it on the other. It was the way legendary duos often started out, in the movies, and he'd assumed that was his origin story to take.
But you made do with what you were given, and Jay compromised where he could. He'd received offers elsewhere too, with a higher likelihood of starting some games where there were weaker Seekers, but Puddlemere had been the only one smart enough to do their research and wily enough to know that even though Max and Jay hadn't said they were a package deal, they were a package deal. They were the only decent team that offered both of them reserve spots, and even though Max had signed on for Beater and Jay for Seeker, it was as close to playing together finally as the two of them could get.
And Jay was determined to make the most of that.