the_debt_of_time

"Cissa?" Sirius muttered curiously, wondering why his cousin was even out here.
She hated Quidditch, and Sirius knew that Malfoy had not played since he was a third
year—having been permanently banned for too many fouls.
Sirius narrowed his eyes as he watched his cousin, and when her arms went out to
her sides like she was spreading wings, he realised what she was doing.
"No!" he shouted and flew at breaking speeds, dropping his Beater's bat in the
process. He leant forward on his broom to gain momentum just as Narcissa vanished over
the back railing of the stands.
"Both Seekers are in a race for the Snitch—Hey is that Black? Sirius Black has
broken away from formation and is heading toward the Slytherin goals, no Quaffle in his
hands, and he seems to have lost his bat! Is this a new secret play?" the announcer asked.
"Black rushing at speeds unheard of for that Cleansweep for sure. Black flies through the
Slytherin goal and... and... over the railing of the stands?"
Sirius dove over the edge of the railing, gripping his broom and gasping when he
saw Narcissa ahead of him, falling toward the earth, her body relaxed as though she was
not expecting impact.
He moved for his wand only to realise he could not remember a spell to slow her
down, though he knew that one existed. "Fuck! Cissa!"
Sirius stretched his arm forward, grabbing hold of the bottom of her left foot and
clinging to it tightly as he pulled his broom upward, slowing their descent, but it was not
enough. He lost his grip and watched as she fell, still a good twenty-five feet above the
ground. In a panic, he put his feet on the edge of the broom, pushing against the handle
and launching himself forward.
He reached out and pulled hard once he had a grip on his cousin, rotating backward
and tugging her into his arms just as his back collided with the ground.