Cormac McLaggen always pushed in everything he did, pushed for something he wanted.
True, he was only your average Gryffindor; brave, loud, and pushy-but he wouldn't just settle for average-no, he had to be the best.
The best of the best.
Cormac strode-no, strutted, like a confident rooster-toward the Quidditch hoops. Swinging one leg over his trusty broomstick, he pushed off the ground and up into the air.
"Try me," he said, hovering in front of the rings. No one would get a goal past him. He would be the best Keeper Gryffindor had ever seen, and he knew it.
The Chaser threw a Quaffle at him to the right; an easy one, he blocked it with his hands. One came to his left, and he caught it in one hand.
They were going easy on him, really.
He smirked. "Do you really need to do more? It's obvious I'm the best here."
But they ignored him, throwing two more in quick succession-one above him and one below. He reached up with his ams to stop the one up top, and flicked his broom so that the ball coming from below would be blocked.
Another smirk. "What did I tell you? I'm the best."
They threw one last time. Cormac was so confident in his abilities you could have filled up a balloon with his ego.
It was coming to the far right. He moved-
And suddenly jerked to the left. The Quaffle sailed through the hoop, and the Chaser chuckled.
"Guess you're not the best then, huh?"
Cormac's ego popped like a deflated balloon. Landing on the ground, defeated, he walked up to Harry Potter.
"Let me try again. My broom acted up on the last one and-"
Harry held a hand up to his face. "Sorry, but rules are rules. Ron, you're the Keeper again."
"What! No!" Cormac yelled. "That's not fair!"
"It wouldn't be fair if you got another chance and others didn't," Harry said. "You can be reserve Keeper though."
The sun was setting, the evening wrapped up. People trickled out of the stadium one by one, until Cormac was the only one left, standing in the center of the field.
The try-outs were done. He wasn't Keeper. He wasn't the best.
"Fuck!" he shouted, finally letting out all the building up anger inside. The wind howled around him, ruffling his Quidditch robes.
How could he not have become the Keeper? He was clearly better than that Weasley. He was ten times better. He was a hundred times better.
Yet he was second to him? How?!
Cormac was never second to anyone. He was never the reserve, the back up, the Plan B.
He was first. He was always on top. Ron should be second to him.
He was so much better than Ron, and Harry, and all of the other crappy Gryffindors that had been present at the try outs. He was older, taller, stronger, more athletic, more handsome...
(Well, he probably wasn't smarter than them, his grades had actually been dropping that year...but that didn't count, because studying was for losers.)
Not to mention he had been practicing and winning at Quidditch all his life. (Others probably had too, but that didn't matter, because they weren't Cormac and they weren't amazing like he was.) He knew all the strategies, all the tactics, all the moves.
He was everything other weren't. He was a step above, something more.
He was Cormac McLaggen. He was the best.
And he wouldn't be second to anybody.
A/N: Anybody remember this guy? I do. And he's really annoying.
Done for:
1 Character, 1 Prompt Challenge-Cormac McLaggen with Push
Quidditch Position Competition-Chaser (Somewhat ironic, since Cormac was trying out for Keeper, but whatever.)
Latin Challenge-Summus; highest, greatest, top (of)
HP Potions Competiton-Bundimun Pomade; write about someone vain.
Seven Deadly Sins Competition-Pride; write about someone egoistical.