Quidditch Trials
Author's Note: This is the first time I've written Scorpius without Rose, so it would make sense to write this for Cuban Sombrero Girl's Flying Solo. No pun intended, honestly. This is the only thing I could think of and thought it would be fun. It's a little short but still hope you enjoy (:
Disclaimer: In no way do I own Scorpius, Quidditch, or anything else besides the idea for this story.
Starting second year I knew what my father expected of me. He expected me to make the house quidditch team, to make seeker preferably. He always set the bar high because he knew I could make it.
I remember when I was ten years old; I was to start Hogwarts in September, my dad had bought me my first professional broom. He promised me that if I could pull off the Wronksi Feint by the time I was in fourth year he'd buy me a second generation Firebolt. He knew how much I wanted to learn it and he knew how to push me but not to far.
By my fifth year, my father started to pressure me into a job at the ministry. I didn't want it. I knew what I want and what I had to do to get it. I had pulled off the Wronksi and I got the second generation Firebolt. That was two times I had done what he wanted to make me happy and they taught me what I need to know.
I need to know that my dad's "quidditch trials" were his way of teaching me life lessons without actually staying they were. I also need to know that I need to do what I wanted with my life to make myself happy and not what would make Dad happy. I knew that if I did what I wanted my father would still be proud of me.