Drowning

"Alright, everyone, listen up!" 

Every wanna-be Quidditch Player ceased their talk, looking at the Ravenclaw Captain as he tossed a Quaffle at his second-command, Kyle. The Keeper nodded at them and hitched his broom higher up his shoulder, just like Nicholas did.

"You all want have one thing in common - making it to the team. Unfortunally, I can only have two more chasers, two beaters and a seeker." Nicholas spoke, eyes resting on everyone doing the tryouts. "Now, I know all of you personally. Some I know are worth it, some I'm not  so sure about. Your goal is to do your best and show me that you are decent enough to crush every other house that gets in our way. This year is my last, which means I plan to get Ravenclaw the Quidditch Cup."

"You do love your speeches," Kyle snickered. 

"Shut your trap," the Captain laughed. "Alright, first to go are Seekers, we got a lot this year. Jordan, you're up first."

He pointed to a nervous-looking third year and soon the rest of the players were sitting, waiting for their turn. Malaquite eyes found each player, Elías' thighs securely holding him on his broom as he hovered a few feet from the bleachers. Behind him, slowly but surely the players began to leave for the pitch. It was only when the last beater was done that Nicholas turned and smirked at the Spaniard.

"López!" he called. "Get your ass to the field! If you're doing both beater and chaser, I want them to be next to each other! Let's see your stamina!"

That Saturday afternoon, Elías found out what it was like to be in the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team.

He was panting, almost dizzy as he eased himself down to the bleachers. He could hear the cheers coming from the bleachers, making out Lyssandra's screams along with Rosier's, Carrow's, Irvin's and Garret's. Grinning, Elías gave out a wave before he collapsed in one of the benches. Soon, there was a goblet to his lips and he took it gratefully, not opening his eyes until he was done.

"Thanks," he told Lyssandra, who seemed as happy as one could be. Tired, Elías rested his sweaty forehead against her tummy, and she placed her hands on his hair - she quickly withdrew them, though. 

"Salazar's tongue! You're sweaty as bloody hell, Elías!"

He laughed, still trying to catch his breath.

"That was amazing, Elías," Irvin patted him strongly on the back, making the dark haired Spaniard choke on his renewed water. Rosier let out the loudest laugh yet, and right by his right, shaking his head. "Seriously, you're a great beater!"

"I may have to watch out," the Slytherin remarked. "Not even Keepers are safe from Bludgers."

"You're getting in, I'm sure of it," Lyssandra told him, running her hands through his soaked hair even though she grimaced every time. Elías nodded against her stomach. "I'm proud of you!"

The rest of the chasers went quickly, considering the length of Elías' tryout. He was fine by the time it all ended, although it was almost time for dinner. Nicholas then lifted himself higher than everyone else in his broom, followed closely by Kyle. The Spaniard stood, along with everyone else who had done the tryouts. Oliver, Lorraine and Giorgio, all three who had been in the team before, looked at each other with concerned looks. 

"The ones who are in, aside from me, the Captain, and Kyle, my second in command, are..."

Lyssandra grabbed his hand.

"Chasers! Oliver and Lorraine!" he called, and Lorraine almost fell off her broom. She had done a wonderful job on the field, Elías knew, and although he'd mostly been a chaser, he would be fine if he was a beater. "Seeker! Louise!"

The third year Ravenclaw girl screamed in delight and spun around her broom, throwing her arms up. She was a bundle of fast paced energy that electrified everyone as soon as she opened her mouth. Elías thought she'd made a great seeker.

"And beaters! Giorgio and Elías! Congratulations everyone who made it!"

His friends were quickly upon him, congratulating his good work and kissing him on the cheek like Juniper did. Lyssandra hugged him tightly and laid a little peck on his lips, timidly, and he appreaciated the shortness. 

Alphonse Thompson, the previous Beater, was glaring at him, descending from his broom with the biggest frown Elías had ever seen someone have. He worried for a moment, but Nicholas was suddenly there and he was engulfing Elías in a hug and sweet fucking Merlin, he could feel every single muscle through the thin quidditch shirt he wore.

"You truly were outstanding on the pitch today," he breathed against his ear. Elías couldn't process any more thoughts than how outstanding his pectorals were. "I can't wait to see you up close next time."

A wild scenario played on Elías' head, so he quickly pulled away and wrapped his arm around Lyssandra's waist, making her wince.

"You go and take a shower," she shoved him slightly. "We'll meet you all at the Great Hall."

***

Dinner was incredible. Elías was surrounded by his team, Nicholas playfully glaring at Julia McCormick, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain. It seemed they were both on good terms, though, and Elías was startled by it at the beginning.

"I just," he shrugged as Oliver called him out on it. "I had guessed people would be more hostile toward Slytherins, I don't know."

"That's Gryffindors," he shrugged. "I mean, Hufflepuffs are the ones that get along with everyone. We Ravenclaws like their loyalty and Slytherin's wit. Then the Slytherins like our persuasiveness and Hufflepuff's acceptance of who they are how they are traditionalists above anything else. Gryffindors are impulsive, and they clash against both Slytherins and us. Don't pay much attention to it, you'll get along with everyone, I'm sure."

"Yeah," Lorraine nudged him. "Nicholas gets along with everyone. He's pretty much got everything - maybe he's too competitive, but he never lets it get in the way of his friendships. And Slytherins are nice if you're nice to them."

"And you're at least half-blood," Juniper muttered. 

Irvin, who was also a muggleborn, too, patted her on the back and went back to his steak. Elías watched the tables, wondering if House Dispute really was such a big deal. Did all Gryffindors hate all Slytherins and viceversa? The table of red and gold was ramboceous, vivaceous, all speaking loudly and laughing wildly. The Ravenclaw could recognize Sirius and his friends, all of them fuzzing over a redheaded girl who looked about to start hexing everything and everyone on the table. 

Further, against the wall, there was the Slytherin table. Elías could see Lyssandra, his wife-to-be, trying to shake off Rosier as he pinched her cheeks harshly. Flint and Carrow were laughing, Nott even banging his fist on the table and choking on his goblet of pumpkin juice.

"You seem to get along with them," Oliver spoke. Elías nodded, smiling slightly. "Do you miss your friends at Salem?"

"I only had one," he sighed, thinking of Andrew. Merlin, he missed him. "His name was Andrew, and he was kind of the American Dream - sort of boy-next-door, you know?"

"Oh, was he smart?" Juniper turned to him, grinning. 

"The smartest," Elías laughed. "He and I used to have these amazing debates at the wee hours in the morning. He would have probably been a Gryffindor, though."

"Why?" Oliver picked on his pudding, half-finished, spoon lazying around the cup.

"Because he was the bravest person I've ever met," Elías suddenly turned his eyes to his hands, over the table, watching the little scars that were awfully pale in comparison to the rest of his skin. They were small, zig-zagging on the inside of his wrist, reminding him of past times and a lot of blood and Andrew holding his face, telling him it'd be alright when they both knew it wouldn't be. "The... the bravest."

Braver than he would ever be.

"Elías...?" Oliver frowned, lifting a hand to place it over his shoulder, but the pureblood shrugged it off, plastered a smile over his face and stood from the table. His new friends looked at him. "Hey, mate -"

"I'm going to the library," he announced. "I wanted to check out what books there are and what not. Need to learn a little about Hogwarts, right?"

His newly found friends were for sure worried, since he hadn't controlled his emotions properly, but they nodded and left him alone, thankfully. He appreciated it, enjoying the silence that engulfed him as soon as the doors of the Great Hall fell shut behind him. Elías walked at a slow pace, breathing softly, listening to sound of his own footsteps and the chirping birds as the clouds gathering above the castle. Truly, Hogwarts brought a sense of peace Salem never could.

The library was empty save for a few Ravenclaw seventh years and a lone Slytherin who Elías recognized immediately. The Spaniard then observed him - the delicate line of his jaw, his jet black locks tickling the curve of his shoulders, the wonderfully unblemished skin of his hand pushing away strands of hair from his swirling pools of grey. Elías kind of forgot Andrew right then.

Without even properly thinking about it, the Ravenclaw walked steadily towards the table, startling the green and silver clad boy as he dropped his heavy bag on top of it. Panic flashed on Regulus' eyes, and he looked around, sighing in relief when he realized they were alone and secluded from the rest of the students. Elías relished in it, knowing the reason why he made him so uneasy.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, López?" he whispered harshly at him, covering the book in front of him with his arms. Elías knew he was purposely hiding it, but he pushed his curiosity aside. 

"Can't a bloke take a seat in the public library?" he began to pull out his books, taking Defense since he had to work on an essay. 

"In my table?" Regulus glared deeply at him. "Leave!"

"I thought we were friends," Elías frowned. "Remember playing as kids?"

"No," he snapped.

"If you didn't, you wouldn't be so afraid of me," the Spaniard stated, looking at him in the eyes.

Regulus paused, shame passing through his eyes and a sudden deep blush taking over his aristocratic features. For all the inbreeding the Black family had done, they truly were beautiful people. Elías could remember Narcissa, Andromeda and Bellatrix, the three of them stunning. Sirius and Regulus were not an exception, obviously. 

"I'm not afraid of you," Regulus mumbled, looking away from him.

It was then that Elías understood him.

No, Regulus was, in fact, not afraid of him, Elías. It went deeper than that. He wasn't afraid of a press of lips when he was a child and didn't even know what it meant for him to like it. He wasn't afraid of a greater kiss, a greater touch, the flirtacious raise of the Spaniard's eyebrows at him in the halls. No, Regulus was afraid of the consequences. Of what came after.

Uncomfortable, Elías lowered his head.

He was ashamed, to be honest. He'd been careless in Salem because it was Salem and people mostly minded their own fucking bussiness. But this was Hogwarts, not Salem. This was the United Kingdom, where a war was brewing and Elías couldn't carelessly kiss boys inside empty classrooms.

He was engaged, for Merlin's sake.

"You should leave," Regulus muttered. "It's... it's hard enough, already."

Elías frowned, and Regulus shrugged, playing with the Black family ring on his thumb. His cheekbones and the sunset light that shone onto his hair was so very distracting.

"What I am," he explained. "It's hard to ignore already. I don't need you to remind me of things that make me abnormal. Or for you to have a slip up that could land you somewhere worse than a muggle."

"No," the Ravenclaw swallowed. "I guess not."

"I'm not a kid, you know?" the youngest Black whispered to him, stubborn and scared eyes meeting wide greens. "You can't expect me to play games with you. I've got responsabilities now. Sirius is not with us anymore, so I am the only Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Black."

He hadn't realized that, either - Sirius had weaseled his way out of it, and now all duties fell on Regulus. The money, the family bussiness, the relations. He wondered how deep the Black family was in Dark Arts.

"I should leave," Elías softly said.

"Yeah," Regulus nodded tiredly. "You should."

"I'll see you in class, I guess," with a sighed, the Ravenclaw collected all his books and left the library, weight falling on his shoulders with each step he took. 

Things were so very complicated now, weren't they? He'd forgotten that he was no longer free, no longer far away from his family, from tradition and duties and marriage. He'd been foolishly playing around, messing with Andrew and flirting with Regulus and ignoring the fact that whether he liked it or not, he was a bird trapped in a cage.

And he would never be free again.