Chapter Text
Regina Black
As I was stretching in lane four, the familiar scent of chlorine filled my nose. I had lived this exact moment countless times before. Taking a deep breath, I wetted my swim cap and pulled it over my hair, which I had tied into a bun. It was the final race of the day for the women’s category. The muffled buzz of the spectators, trying to predict the winner before the race even began, filled my ears. Behind me, I could feel the eyes of my coach and teammates. It didn't panic me; it only served as a reminder of what I had to do. I put on my goggles, stretched the strap at the back, and let it snap against my cap. With that sharp click, I was completely ready. Stepping onto the starting block, I waited for the referee’s whistle.
When the referee barked, “Take your marks!” I gripped the edge of the block and placed one foot forward. As I wedged my foot firmly into place, I ignored the slight twinge of pain. It was the last race of the day anyway. My foot could wait for one more race. At the sound of the long whistle, I dove into the water. The dive was clean, just as I wanted; there was no reason to panic. Gliding through the water, I felt it rush past me—as if it weren't trying to hold me back, but rather helping me forward. Breaking the surface, I took a proper breath and smoothly began my strokes. My hands sliced through the water, clearing a path for my body. Water felt so right for me everytime. I couldn't think how would I can survive if I can't swim.
With every stroke pushing me further ahead, I knew the others were far behind, even if I couldn't see them clearly. Only the girl in lane three could possibly be close to me. By the time I finished the first 50 meters, the ache in my right foot was starting to flare up, but it felt like a mere throb. Executing a flip turn, the pain sharpened as I pushed off the wall, yet I kept swimming without slowing down my pace for a second. However, as we entered the final 25 meters, my foot truly began to give out. I could feel my kicks growing ragged, losing the momentum I had at the start of the race. The girl in the lane next to me drawing closer was proof of it. I kept swimming with everything I had, but my foot was becoming a serious liability. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that the girl next to me was now neck and neck.
We were down to the final 10 meters, and I was starting to fall behind. With one final surge, I accelerated. I was putting everything on the line; I was going to push my foot to its absolute limit. With every stroke and every kick, it felt as though needles were piercing my ankle. Despite the agonizing pain, I gritted my teeth and kept pushing. I had nothing else on my mind but winning this race. The moment my palm struck the pool wall, I ripped off my cap and goggles almost violently and looked up. As my eyes found the scoreboard…
Lily Evans - 01.01.26
Regina Black - 01.01.41
No, no, no… This couldn't be happening. I couldn't be second. All my hard work couldn't have gone down the drain just because of some pain. At first, paralyzed by shock, I just floated in the water. Then, in a fit of rage, I slammed my fist into the water. Bracing myself against the wall, I hauled my body out, but the moment my foot made contact with the ground, the pain tore through me. Gritting my teeth, I collapsed to the floor. Among my teammates, whose eyes were filled with disappointment, a few came over to help. I grabbed the outstretched hand of my cousin, Narcissa, and pulled myself up.
“I’ve got Regina, you guys go back to the coach.” Narcissa said. Even though I felt her gaze turn toward me, I didn't have the courage to lift my eyes from the ground. “Hey. Are you okay?” I could hear the deep concern in Narcissa's voice. “Is it the foot you hurt?”
“Yes. I thought it was just a minor sprain, but the pain worsened after the final turn.”
“Can you walk? Should I call the coach?”
“No, please, let’s just get out of here.”
“Okay, okay, come on.”
I threw my arm over Narcissa's shoulder, and with her supporting my weight, we began to walk. Try as I might to hide it, my limp was glaringly obvious. We walked in absolute silence until we reached the team locker room, pretending as if nothing was wrong. Once inside, I collapsed onto the bench, and Narcissa approached with the first-aid kit. The room was dead silent, save for the sound of Narcissa's footsteps. On her way over, she turned on the wall monitor. I realized she planned to stay with me and watch the rest of the meet from here.
“Extend your leg, let me take a look. I know you're wary of the coach right now, so I won't force you to call anyone.” She smiled. I offered a painful smile in return.
“Thanks… You can go, you know. Barty’s race is about to start. Go cheer him on, I can handle my foot myself.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Regina. I can’t leave you like this.”
“Cissa, please. I’ve got it. It’s nothing new anyway. It just hurts because I overexerted it. I’ll just spray it and wrap it up. Go on.”
Narcissa hesitated for a moment before giving a reluctant nod.
“Fine, but you stay right here. No standing up, and if anything happens, you call me immediately. Deal?”
“Deal,” I muttered wearily. She held my gaze until she was certain I was telling the truth, and once satisfied, she headed for the door. As she walked away, I grabbed the cold spray. Hissing as I sprayed it onto my ankle, I realized I would never get used to that icy, biting sensation. I let the spray set for a moment, then extended my ankle as I sat on the bench.
I waited a few seconds after the door closed. Once I was absolutely sure she was gone, I finally stopped gritting my teeth and let the tears flow. The agony in my foot, the sting of coming in second, the disappointment etched on my friends' faces, the crushing weight of all my efforts going to waste—it all hurt so intensely. I had fallen short of the new tournament record expected of me. The previous record was 01.00.90. I… wasn't enough. I hadn't wanted it to end like this. I hadn't missed a single practice. I had poured my heart and soul into this, and for what? An individual second place, and likely a second place for the team as well. Second place was unacceptable. What was expected of me was a tournament record, not losing by a mere fifteen-hundredths of a second. As my tears fell one after another, I tried my best to remain completely silent. I had asked to be left alone, yet at that very moment, I desperately wished someone was by my side.
The sharp command of “Take your marks!” echoing from the locker room monitor drew my attention back to the screen. I saw Barty in lane two; I didn't recognize the others, but it didn't matter anyway. No one knew how brilliant of a swimmer Bartemius was better than I did. We would occasionally race during practices. Leaning back, I rested my head against the wall, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I just wanted the pain in my foot to stop. I didn't give a damn about the men’s race, but when I opened my eyes, the sight on the screen compelled me to watch. They were in the second 50 meters. Naturally, Barty was leading, but there was another boy right there with him. He was practically neck and neck with Barty. I had assumed the race would be dull, but seeing this, I decided to watch the remainder of it. They were in the final 10 meters, still swimming stroke for stroke. I hadn't even realized I was holding my breath until both of them slammed their hands against the pool wall. In a state of tense anticipation, I looked up at the scoreboard…
Bartemius Crouch Jr - 00.51.25
James Potter - 00.51.31
Barty had won, but the swimmer who took second had also done an incredible job. It had been a phenomenal race, and he had even broken the previous tournament record of 51.35 seconds. Actually, both swimmers had beaten the old record. The other boy's only misfortune was being in the exact same tournament as Barty.
Through the screen, I could see the smug smirk plastered across Barty’s face and our teammates rushing over to congratulate him. The very same teammates who had abandoned me just minutes prior… Was this truly how it worked? Why did it have to be this way? Shouldn't a person want people around them most when things go wrong? Yes, perhaps when you lose, you don't earn the right to the same celebration as the winner, but… it stung. I was always there for every single one of them, through everything. Our school raised us on the doctrine that winning was the only option, but was that really how things should be? My only hope was that the injury to my foot was temporary and nothing severe. Otherwise, with this injury and this performance, let alone becoming team captain, I wouldn't even be able to stay on the team.
The cold spray I had applied to my foot was no longer enough to dull the pain. When I attempted to put weight on it, the adrenaline of the race having faded, I was forced to confront the true extent of the injury. I didn't know how I had damaged it so badly, but perhaps wrapping it would help. Taking an elastic bandage from the kit, I bound my foot. When I tried to step on it again, it still throbbed with pain, but it was at least manageable. I needed to head back for the medal ceremony. I knew no one would come to help me, nor did I want them to. I didn't need anyone's pity.
When I arrived at the award ceremony, I saw that we had placed second as a women’s swim team. Representing the team on the podium was Narcissa. Normally, the captains would step up to represent the team. Even as I tried to comfort myself by thinking they simply hadn't wanted me to walk, I knew the bitter truth. I was no longer the captain. So be it. I could fix this, couldn't I? Yes, I would have to live with this humiliation for a while, but later on, I could reclaim the captaincy with my times. I wasn't happy about being second, of course—it was unacceptable—but for some reason, coming in second didn't sting as badly right now. As long as my foot healed, as long as I could swim, I could endure anything.
For the individual women's 100m freestyle results, I limped slightly up to the podium to receive my silver medal. I couldn't bring myself to look my teammates in the eye. A voice from beside me made me turn. It was the girl who had won first place.
“Hey. Regina, right?”
“Yes? Is something wrong?”
“No, no. It’s just, I saw you limping when you got out of the pool. I wanted to make sure you were okay. It’s nothing serious, I hope?”
I could detect the genuine concern in her voice. Even if she was just asking out of mere politeness, she was genuinely worried and curious. Why did she care? She had won first; she had nothing to do with me anymore. “I’m heading to the hospital right after this, but I'm hoping it’s nothing serious.” What was I saying? Why was I dragging this out instead of just saying "No, I'm fine" and moving on?
“I hope so too. You really swim beautifully.”
“Um… Thank you, you were incredibly fast too,” I said, causing her to let out a soft giggle.
“No, I don't mean just speed. Your stroke technique. It’s beautiful. It’s as if you’re gliding through the water.”
And before I could formulate a response to the girl, we stepped down from the podium. She flashed me a smile as she walked away, but I was too stunned to react. When I returned to my teammates, I was met with the furious glare of Coach Sezgin. The harshness in his voice was the polar opposite of Lily's.
“What do you think you’re doing? As if dragging the team down to second place wasn't enough, you’re standing there chatting with the girl who won first like nothing happened?”
“Coach… I—”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses.”
“It’s not an excuse, Coach. My foot is in really bad shape.” I loathed playing the victim, but I had to state the facts.
“We’ll find out soon enough.” He turned to Narcissa and Bartemius. “Take the teams back to school. If anything happens to anyone, it’s on you. Regina and I are going to the hospital.”
“Understood, Coach,” Barty spoke for the both of them, while Narcissa cast a sorrowful look my way but remained silent. Barty, on the other hand, was well-accustomed to this, the authority in his voice unmistakable.
...
“The tendon on the outside of her foot is ruptured, but it’s not an area we can operate on. There are far too many tendons crowded in that region. Furthermore, the muscle attached to the torn tendon is also lacerated. It must have occurred during the initial sprain. Will it fully recover? It is far too early to say. However, she needs to rest it and absolutely cannot swim for a while. She mustn't swim for several solid months. To be perfectly realistic, she may never be able to swim the way she used to.” The doctor’s words echoed relentlessly inside my skull. “Mustn't swim,” “May never swim the way she used to”… was I never going to swim again? No… swimming was my entire life. I could hear the coach conversing with the doctor, but I couldn't process the words. The ringing in my ears barred me from comprehending anything. Paralyzed by shock, I stared blankly at the wall for a long moment, though I was certain the sheer terror was legible on my face. Then, I slowly turned to Coach.
“Coach… Coach, say something. I’ll be able to swim, won't I? Please, say something.”
“Regina… we’ll see how things look, alright? For now, let’s get back to school, we still need to speak with your parents. Thank you, doctor.” I took his outstretched arm for support, and we began walking toward the exit. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but seeing my state, he thought better of it. As for me, I was walking, but I had absolutely no concept of where I was going.
...
“No, Mom, they said it’s nothing major. I mean, it won't affect my schooling. It’s just… I won't be able to swim.” My mother’s voice from the other end of the line sounded far more disappointed than consoling. Though she tried to comfort me over the phone, I knew the atmosphere would shift once I got home. I didn't hear this particular tone from my mother very often. I wasn't one to disappoint. I was the one who made them proud.
“Yes, Mom, I’ll finish up my business here and head straight home. Since I won't be able to attend school for a few days, I’m gathering my textbooks, but I was already ahead anyway, so it won't be much of an issue… Alright, see you at home.”
...
The moment I stepped inside the house, I locked myself in my room. My parents had presumably understood that I needed to be alone. I didn't hear a single knock on my door until dinner, and I simply lay flat on my bed. The throbbing in my foot was making itself known. The agonizing reality of perhaps never swimming again, the physical pain in my foot, and the profound relief of being entirely alone it all converged, and I buried my face into my pillows, finally letting the tears fall freely. I no longer had any idea what to do with my life.