elmyraemilie (elmyraemilie) wrote in snape_potter, @ 2014-07-26 15:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | summer challenge14 |
Summer Challenge 14: Team (General)
Title: Team
Author: elmyraemilie
Other pairings/threesome: None
Rating: General
Word count:
Theme chosen: Quidditch World Cup
Warning(s): None
Summary: Not every person on the Quidditch team wears the uniform.
A/N: Unbetaed.
Harry slumped on a bench in the locker room. He was exhausted. The game had gone for eleven hours; someone must have pissed off the snitch early on. His back was sore, his belly muscles hurt; even his hands ached when he closed them.
But, for the first time within living memory, England had won the Cup.
He'd been the last one back to the locker room. He could hear Simpkins and Winegarden on the other side of the bank of lockers, raving to Coach Holbrook-Smith about how well her strategy worked. The laughter and talk from everyone else blended into a crazy cacophony, punctuated by the thump of equipment into bags and the squeak-slam of locker doors.
The thought of a meal and bed drove Harry to stand up and wander into the shower. He peeled the paper from a new bar of soap and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it.
Bliss. Just bliss. The long game, Jamaica's ferocious attack on the goals, the injuries that came with play this fast and furious--it all faded into the feeling of the water pounding against his shoulders.
At the point that he realized he might be cooking rather than showering, he shut off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist. The first thing he saw when he left the shower room was Severus, standing beside his locker.
"Hi."
"Harry! Congratulations--it was a spectacular game."
"Thanks. We deserve it. I've never seen a team work harder than this one did." Pulling on his pants proved to be something of a challenge; Harry leaned against the cold metal locker to get it done.
Over on the other side, the pop of a champagne cork sounded, followed by cheers. Severus cocked a brow. "You are not as jubilant as everyone else."
Harry shook his head. "I'm forty years older than most of them, you know. Besides, I'm just the team healer. Though they certainly needed a healer this time. Two compound fractures! And me trying to keep up with them in case someone went down." He groaned his way down to the bench to put on his socks and shoes. "I'm satisfied, and I'm happy for the team, but I don't have the energy to be jubilant."
Bitterman stuck his head around the corner. "Harry! We're going out for a steak dinner. You coming?"
"No, you go ahead." Harry conjured a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow for the post-game meeting. We're going to talk about that mid-air collision."
"Oh, you had to remind me. Thanks." With a wry grin, Bitterman stuck his left leg out and gave it a shake. "You fixed me up, though. Suppose we'll see you tomorrow, then. Bring hangover potion, will you?"
"Yeah, okay." The raucous crowd filtered out of the room, leaving behind a sudden depth of silence.
Severus collected Harry's equipment bag and his broom. Putting his jacket on one slow arm at a time, Harry surveyed the area. "Guess I'm done here. Where to, Severus?"
"I believe we shall go home. I am prescribing a bowl of soup, a glass of brandy and a warm-oil rubdown for a most valuable player." He wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders.
Harry stretched up to steal a kiss. "You are the best partner a healer could ever ask for."
Severus put out the light and wrapped Harry in his arms to Apparate home.