Catch Upon a Snitch

“And I’m the Seeker!” he finished. He beamed as he held up a small golden sphere, adorned with a tiny pair of plastic wings, in his hand. “Wait… Why are you crying?”

I mumbled out an answer from the pillow I had buried my face in.

“What?”

Mumble.

“Well…”

Mumblemumblemumble.

“Lily.”

I lifted my head up and snapped, “That’s not my name and you know it, Jamie.”

“But everyone else calls you Lily--”

“And no I am not calling you James Potter. Isn’t it bad enough that you have Daniel Radcliffe bed sheets?” I threw the pillow at him. “I’ve had enough of Harry Potter.”

His jaw dropped.

“You…” He pressed his hand to his mouth, stifling back a sob.

“It’s true. Harry Potter is childish,” I said a matter of factly.

He gasped.

“You… DEATHEATER!” he roared, then lunged at me.

If you have ever been misfortunate enough to be run over by an elephant, this was what I was feeling at the moment.

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“Suffer the dementer’s kiss for your prejudice!” he cried. He had me pinned down to the couch, and all I could do was flail my arms uselessly to fend him off as he tried to get closer to me. “RAHHHHHH!” He stopped, hovering right over my lips, and whispered dramatically, “Hint: I may be fended off by the correct spell.”

I tried. “Abracadabra?”

“Rahhh,” he hissed again, then gave me a quick kiss.

“Are you done? Am I dead now?”

He nodded and got up, pulling me along with him. We sank into the couch.

“Movie?” he asked.

“Okay, but no--”

“I know,” he said with a small smile, “No Potterfilms. We’ll watch that comedy you like. The one starring Bon Qui Qui Damian and Chester Nikki.” He pressed his cheek against the side of my head, squishing me to his side like a stuffed animal. “That sound good, Lillian?”

--

Jamie and I met at a coffee shop. He was there with the Harry Potter Alliance. I was there to work on a research paper. I had just paid for a drink, and the cashier asked me for my name.

Of course I said, “Lily.”

And then something knocked into my shoulder, and there was Jamie – looming over me so that I had to lean against the counter to avoid physical contact.

“Lily!?” he exclaimed excitedly. “Like Lily Evans! Wife of James Potter! Is your name really Lily!?”

Of course I said, “Yes.”

--

“Explain it again,” I prompted in the middle of the movie. We’d curled up on the couch together, wrapped up in the same blanket. Jamie pulled the blanket closer to him, and I tugged it back at me again.

“These guys,” Jamie explained, “that we met at Leakycon were bullying Tung. Calling him Dudley because he’s so… ” he paused as he thought of a word, “… squishy! We were about to fight, but then Melly steps in.” Jamie cleared his throat, pushing his voice to falsetto, “’Guys! Fighting is bad! Frown face.’”

He dragged the blanket over with his leg as the actor on screen began yelling in French.

“So Cindy suggests we handle it like men,” Jamie continued, thumping his chest. “By having a Quidditch match. And so it was decided. The game was on.”

“When is it?” I asked.

He perked up. “You planning on coming?”

“When is it?” I repeated, yanking the blanket back.

“This Friday!”

I stopped pulling on the sheets. “We had plans this Friday.”

“I know…” Jamie said, “But that was the only day the other team was free! We found some old broomsticks in the janitor’s closet and we’ve been practicing with them!”

I’d been sitting on the blanket to keep it in place, but now it was slipping out from under me as I tried to process what Jamie was implying. He snuggled into his newly stolen sheets.

“So you’re going to… run around with a stick…”

“Between our legs!” Jamie finished cheerfully.

The screen blacked out as the credits played. I rolled over to wrap the blankets around me and lied down onto the couch.

“I don’t think I can make it,” I said from under the covers. I hadn’t realized I’d been drumming my fingers over the top of the covers, and Jamie stilled them by clasping them in his hands.

“It’s okay. I know you don’t like Harry Potter.”

I sighed. I’d watched all the movies with him. Watched the parodies he pulled up on youtube. Helped him draw lightning bolts on his forehead with eyeliner. What more did he want?

I thought he would leave, but he remained sitting at my feet on the couch. I could feel his weight there, making the couch incline toward his side. Always pulling me toward his side.

“There are too many of you,” I said at last. “You fans. And it feels like you’re all in on one big, fat inside joke – and even if you explained it to me, I wouldn’t find it funny.” I shrugged. “Maybe I just don’t have a sense of humor.”

“I don’t agree with you,” he said. “It isn’t the things you say it is. It isn’t childish. And even if it is, that doesn’t make it bad.” There was a crinkle of static as the credits ended. “How you belittle youth!”

“I dunno. Even in college, I’ve seen a lot of stupid in these hallways…”

“It’s not just a fantasy series,” he continued. “And… really, I don’t love it for the made up stuff. I love it because it feels real. Does… does that make sense?”

The peppy song from the title menu began to play. The couch creaked as Jamie stood, clicking the TV off as he went.

“I’ll let you pretend to sleep now,” he said.

As he got up, I reached over and hooked my fingers onto his.

“Stay,” I said, my voice just above a whisper. “It’s late.”

“Nah, I got practice early tomorrow morning.” He gave my hand a squeeze. “Do you think I’m immature? For liking a work of fiction so much?”

“Yes,” I said. I kissed the middle of his palm. “It sometimes worries me that there’s another man in your life.”

I fell asleep to the sound of him laughing softly to himself.

--

Besides me, there were only three other spectators for Jamie’s Quidditch match. Members from the HP Alliance and Tung’s mother. So there I sat, alone, watching my boyfriend make a fool of himself.

As usual.

“You came!” Jamie said, waving at me from the center of the field. I returned my attention to the open novel in my lap until he looked away.

The two teams glared at each other purposefully, standing on opposite side of the soccer field. The captain of the other team, a silvery blonde-haired midget, jerked his head toward Jamie – asking him if they were ready to go. Jamie nodded back.

They took off.

I watched as Jamie punted across the field. His movements seemed random, and I didn’t quite follow why he was going where he was going. But I liked the look on his face as he ran, his eyes containing a seriousness I had never seen in him before – and yet, he maintained a casual smile across his lips.

Blondie from the other team gained on Jamie’s tale. I saw him reach out, as if you yank Jamie back. I made a face – was that fair? But I had nothing to worry about. Melly and Cindy emerged out of nowhere and began beating Blondie with their inflatable baseball bats.

I heard a couple of giggles to my left as Blondie scurried away. Ah, we had new spectators.

A ball came flying at Tung and he punched it away from the goal, looking quite proud of himself and surprised at the same time. Melly hit him with her bat to wipe the expression off his face, and he threw a kick at her but missed as she zoomed off. One of Jamie’s other players scooped up the ball with a single hand before dashing off toward the opposite end of the field.

The new spectators laughed again, and I found myself smiling along with them. I couldn’t tell who was winning, but I was slowly starting to put together how the game worked.

The ball was on the ground again, rolling across the field. Both teams sprinted forward, clawing at the ball to regain possession. Jamie ran into the madness too, accidentally thwacking a couple people in the face with the back of his broom.

Someone snorted. “Wow. I thought he was kidding.”

I turned toward the sound of that voice – the newly joined watchers. A girl shook her head as she leaned against the boy next to her.

“Isn’t that guy” she pointed to Jamie, “on the soccer team with you?”

“Yeah,” the guy said, who I now recognized as the captain. “I didn’t think he wanted to borrow the field for something like this, though.”

“The Seeker’s job is to catch the golden snitch!” Jamie said. “And when they do, their team gets a hundred and fifty points and the game ends.”

“One hundred and fifty?” I asked. “That basically means that whoever catches it will win. Where’s the point in that?”

“Not always,” he said. “But it does mean that the Seeker has a lot of power over the game.”

There was a yelp from the field. Jamie tripped over someone, arms windmilling around him to regain balance, before he crashed onto the ground. He tumbled a few feet before stopping, skinning his knees and splattering mud on his face.

For a while, he didn’t give up.

Everyone immediately stopped, dropping their brooms and running over to help him. Blondie was there first, throwing Jamie across his shoulder as he lugged him over to the sidelines. Melly puttered after them nervously, Cindy following right after.

“I’m a nurse!” Tung said, elbowing people aside so he could tend to Jamie. I tried to push past the crowd, but everyone was equally as panicked and converged closer.

“That was hardly a fall,” the captain said loudly. “We’ve sustained tougher injuries playing real sports.”

I stopped trying to hop around everyone and flinched, but nobody else seemed to hear him – too preoccupied with fussing over Jamie’s injury.

“It’s a shame you can’t magic him better.” The captain walked over toward the crowd, grinning like he’d made a particularly funny joke, but nobody was laughing. He raised his eyebrows. “Did I… say something wrong? Isn’t that what you guys do?”

Jamie caught my eye, looking up at me imploringly. Like he wanted me to weigh in on the situation. His foot was bent at an awkward ankle, and somebody had spared a jacket for him to prop it up against.

I shoved my hands in my pockets. That wasn’t fair. He knew I was against this stupid game.

“You should really stop playing,” I said.

There were bursts of protests, but Jamie cut them off with a wave of his hands.

“We’re cancelling the game, then,” he announced.

A chorus of more groans.

“I said you couldn’t play,” I interrupted. I put my hand out. “I, however, remain uninjured. Now give me your broom, Potter.”

Jamie cocked his head to the side, amused. “You sure, Evans?”

“Of course,” I said, “I think I’m grown up enough for it.”