Sirius leaned forward in the stadium, his arms over his knees. All around him people were shouting, jumping up and down and waving themed flags. Someone started a chant about Gryffindor winning and the person next to him joined in. Then the people to the left heard. It spread like a wildfire, consuming the crowds until half of the entire audience burned with the screams.
He listened to it, and the longer he heard it the less he understood the meaning. It might be a real sentence, but thoughts were no longer what was being conveyed. All that was left was emotion, and everyone was doing their very best to contribute. He couldn't even see the game anymore. Sighing, he climbed up onto the bench. The noise didn't get any quieter when he was elevated. If anything it got louder, coursing through his veins like blood. It made him feel uncomfortable, like he was no longer himself. Like they were all part of one entity, a giant monster that could force anything they wanted through sheer size. They probably could. They were strong together, and his one body contributed to that strength. He was a part of it just like everyone else. And that unnerved him in a way he couldn't explain.
Sirius looked up, squinting to figure out where James was. As he was watching someone bumped into him from the side and he stumbled slightly, his footing unsure on the slick aluminum surface. He regained his balance by catching the ledge, pushing himself up. Then he turned and shoved the person who had touched him. The boy fell off the back of the bench, stuck between rows. There was so much chaos and movement that no one payed him much attention as he struggled back up, laughing.
"Be more careful, Wormtail!" Sirius almost had to shout to be heard over the noise. He smiled anyway, watching his friend climb back onto the seat.
"You didn't- didn't have to push me," Peter gasped, sounding slightly bewildered. Sirius laughed.
"It's a joke."
"But it's not funny," he protested. Sirius smiled wider, deciding not to struggle with speaking over the crowd. Suddenly a surge of screams started around them, drawing their attention back to the game. Sirius looked up to see a player in a red jersey barreling towards some unseen point. The Ravenclaw seeker was right behind james, trying and failing to gain ground.
It was hard to make out details at these distances; the only differentiations between the two seekers were their house colors. Even as indistinct as they were, the seekers remained the center of attention. That was always how it was. Who cares if there's a game-changing struggle at the goal only twenty feet beneath them? If a seeker sees the snitch, the audience will see the seeker.
James suddenly stopped, plummeting towards the ground. The confused Ravenclaw pulled her speeding broomstick to a stop and looked down. At first Sirius thought that it was a feint. That James would come soaring up, the snitch clasped in his raised fist. He had seen similar saves so many times that he fully expected it. It wasn't until a few seconds passed that a seed of doubt crossed his mind. His worry grew as the screams around him changed from excited to panicked. The crowd, the single entity, had realized something that Sirius had not. And he felt its emotions pulling him, driving him into a wall.
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