Chapter Four
"Did you stretch out that leg of your's thoroughly, Angelina?" Alicia asked, leaning on the beam that prevented from Quidditch watchers from falling over into the pitch so many feet below. "Because, I swear, if you didn't I'll--"
Angelina balanced on her broomstick, levitating so that she was even with Alicia. She straightened her leg slightly and grinned widely, "Yes, I did, mother. May I go now and play with the other kids?"
Fixing the young woman with a pointed glare, Alicia nodded and waved Angelina off, "Alright. Go and play with the other little kids, but nothing fancy."
George and Lee, standing not too far away, laughed, having heard everything.
Angelina nodded and flew off, downward toward the pitch where she would settle herself alongside her only friend at this try-out. Katie and Angelina stood there, anticipation flowing through every inch of their body. This would be the biggest step in their lives, because after today, the two local heroins would more than likely go pro with their favorite sport.
Feeling Angelina at her side, Katie grinned and looked up to the stands where Alicia, George and Lee were. A moment later, Fred, accompanied by the biosterous and hyper active triplets joined the small party. Not long after, Stewart joined them. On the other side of the stands, Katie's mother was seated, waving anxiously to her daughter. Her Uncle Drew and her cousins, Michelle, Winston and Sean were there as well, cheering her on.
Her father was nowhere to be found.
Before she had the chance to think about the lame excuses her father would deliver as to why he hadn't made the biggest audition of her life, her attention was captured by a very vibrant woman who sported the robes of Chuddley Cannon Chaser.
The bright orange robes made her chocolately skin seem even more darker than it probably was, and the braids in her hair, though mainly black, were streaked with various colors of orange. She was immediately recognized as Seaver, the off beat captain of the Chuddley Cannons.
She stood high on a platform filled with other players from professional teams. It seemed that they not only would be selecting a few players, but they would be running this try-out as well.
The woman pointed her wand to her throat and muttered something. Next, when she spoke, her voice amplified over the entire stadium. "Alright, kids," she began, grinning wickedly. "Before you're all split up into positions, we want to see you all at your best. Teams will be picked out and you'll scrimage for a bit."
Katie and Angelina glanced at each other, wondering if they would be placed on separate teams.
Luck, for once, was on the side of the two friends, and they were placed together, though they weren't always played at the same time.
A pair of dark brown eyes watched silently as Angelina made a magnificent pass to Katie, permitting the young woman to score a goal that was made far too easy for her by a keeper's lack of attention. Those brown eyes belonged to Micheal DeWinter. His hands were folded and rested gently on his lap. He looked to the owner of the Phantoms team. "I want to take them both on, but what would you suggest?"
"They aren't going to play for you," Bruce Phantom growled in that low rumble of a voice of his. "They're too smart to play for someone like you."
Micheal narrowed his eyes, but his tone remained respectful, "Why do you say that, Mr. Phantom? If you don't mind my asking."
Bruce shifted in his seat, eyes glued to the game in progress on the pitch, "Well as you might not know, they were affiliated with Oliver Wood while they played at Hogwarts. He was their captain for four years. They'd be sure to see the same flaws in you that Wood did."
"They're different people from him, and I doubt that they're trouble makers."
"Then let me put it in a language you'll understand," Bruce said, his tone none too pleasant. "I would never punish either of those girls by having them play for someone like you." He finally glanced at the young coach, pleased to see that the man was seething with anger.
Micheal stood, "So what is your intent? Punish them by sending them to some second rank team, when they're clearly meant to be champions? You are an unusual man, Mr. Phantom, no wonder you were tossed all those years ago."
"Don't talk about things you don't understand, boy," he growled dangerously. "Now, I would appreciate it if you would leave the stadium. I highly doubt there is anyone here that would feed your over-sized ego and actually play for you."
Still very miffed, Micheal stalked out of the stands, then the stadium.
Bruce leaned back in his seat, watching the match's progression. Angelina's temper was flaring about a poor call made by the official that oversaw the game. Shaking his head, Bruce thought to himself, Something has got to be done with that girl before she blows a gasket.
Katie rolled over in her bed, only to have her face hit a crisp envelope full of parchment. She scrunched her face up and turned back over, not particularly in the mood for mail at the moment. Try-outs from the day before had completely wiped her out.
Along with the many other Quidditch hopefuls at Mystic stadium the day before, Katie had expected a three maybe four hour try-out. That was the usual anyway, but instead, the try-outs had taken the entire day, and it wasn't just broomstick work that they did.
Endless surveys and interviews had taken up much of the time as well as chaser, keeper, beater and seeker workshops.
Katie had decided to sleep in for four or five days in order to recover from the terribly long day.
"Katherine, darling," Mrs. Bell's melodic voice drifted into the room, causing the blond to groan loudly. "Well, before you tune the world out, I just thought that I would let you know, that the letter on your bed is a letter about your try-outs from yesterday." With that, the elegant woman left the room.
It took a moment for Katie to process what her mother had said about the letter had face had made contact with only moments before. When she did process theinformation, she quickly leapt up and tore open the envelope and retrieved her letter. She unfolded and her eyes quickly scanned over the page.
Katherine Bell,
Your performance at the international try-out for the many professional teams searching for new talent was extraordinary; therefore, on behave of the Chuddley Cannons, we extend an invitation to you to join with the Chuddley Cannon family. The following---
But Katie didn't even bother to read the rest. She had been accepted on to a team, and that was all that mattered.
Not even bothering to change into regular day wear, she hurried out into the breakfast nook where her parents were seated and already begining their morning meal.
"I made it! The Chuddley Cannons want me as a chaser! Can you believe it!" Katie shrieked happily, waving the letter in front of the faces of her stunned parents before hurrying off back to her room so she could change into more suitable clothing. There was no way her day could possibly be ruined now.
She, Katherine Bell, was accepted among the ranks of professional Quidditch players. She had proven herself to them, and soon enough, she would be able to prove it to the rest of the world. She would have to stop by Big Bruce's office and let him know about recent events. No doubt he already knew, but she had to express her joy at being accepted!
In no time at all, Katie apparated from her home to her destination. For once, she didn't feel that sickening feeling when she performed the disappearing, reappearing act. In fact, she felt as if she could apparate several hundred times and still feel ultimately at ease and very, extremely and completely happy.
As she was about to walk through Bruce's office door, an angry growl stopped her.
"You mean to tell me no coach wanted me on their team?"
Katie leaned towards the door, listening carefully. That was Angelina's voice. Her brows furrowed in confusion. Angelina hadn't gotten onto a team? But that just had to be wrong!
Bruce sighed, and leaned back in his chair which creaked slightly, "You want to know the truth, Johnson? The only reason you didn't get on to a team, is because I won't let you go any farther in your Quidditch career until you learn how to be a good sport as well as a team player!"
The large man sounded angry, but he had a forced calm to his voice that was rather intimidating.
Angelina refused to stand down, "I am a damned team player! I work the hardest out there and you know it! The only reason your team is any good is because of Katie and me! You just don't want to lose any chance you've got of having a winning team!"
"Winning doesn't mean anything to me, Johnson, and if you knew that, which you should," he growled dangerously as he stood up, resting his palms evenly on the surface of his desk, "you wouldn't be saying such ridiculous things! You have a horrible temper, you don't know when to keep that big mouth of your's shut, and what professionals would want to play with you?"
Angelina was silent. Bruce took this as his cue to continue on, "You're a brilliant Quidditch player, and off the field, you're a really entertaining and wonderful gal, but you are not professional material. I hate to be brutally honest with you, but in this line of business, I can't lie to you."
There was a moment of silence, and Katie found herself turning red from holding her breath for so long, but she didn't dare let it out.
Lowering her head slightly, Angelina clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. A moment later she glared up at Bruce, "Fine! Have it your way! Keep me back from everything I ever wanted! Take away my only teammate I have left from Hogwarts. Just go ahead, I don't bloody care anymore!" She turned on her heels and began to storm out.
"The post-season training begins on Monday the 28th, I expect to see you there," Bruce shouted slightly, making sure his message was delivered to the retreating young woman. His response from Angelina was a rather rude hand gesture.
Angelina stormed out of the office, not even noticing that Katie was standing right there at the door frame.
"Alright, Bell," Bruce said, resettling himself into his chair behind his desk. He let out a long sigh. "You next."
Oliver was actually shocked as to how many teams were willing to pick him up after he was dropped from his own team. They all seemed to agree that DeWinter was the world's worst coach ever in the history of Quidditch.
"Just pick one already," Beverly muttered, settling down next to him and handing him a bowl of some liquidy substance. When the man casted her a weary glance, she grinned, "It's soup." Accepting the bowl of the supposed soup, Oliver returned his attention to the list of teams that offered his starting as well as reserved keeper positions.
"Well," he began, taking a sip of the soup. It had many spices that he couldn't possibly name, and a even chunks of venison accompanied by some sort of plant to add ever more flavor. "Firstly of all, this is really good." A ate a bit more, then settled back into business mode. "Anyway, on this side of the table, I have teams willing to make me their starting keeper."
"So we'll look at that side alone," Beverly declared, pushing the letters from the other side of the table down to the floor. "I know you want to be in the spotlight again. Besides"
"I make more," he said silently. "And in order to whip this place into shape--" he looked around at his shabby flat, and sighed with a shake of his head. "Anyway. Let's see who we have here."
Beverly wrinkled her nose at a letter from Romania, "They don't speak much English, and their seeker it the most insufferable person on the face of the earth. Or at least that's what all the magazines say." She picked it up and waved it front of Oliver in a tantalizing manner. "You want?"
He quickly snatched it away, and tore it open. As he did so, he stuck out at her then spoke, "You can't believe everything you read in the magazines. Besides--" He pulled out the letter only to discover that the letter wasn't even written in English. He squinted his eyes at the tiny print, trying to make sure he wasn't looking at terribly sloppy hand writing.
There was no way it could have possibly been in any form of English.
"Yes, so," Beverly said, taking the letter away and replacing it with a new one. "What about the Hornets?"
Oliver shook his head and tossed the letter to the rejection pile that was slowly continuing to build. "The Maxwell family dominates that team, I would never seen any play time."
The young woman nodded, "Alright then. I better get comfortable, because this just might take a while."
Just so everyone knows, I'm not trying to be jerky or anything by not responding to the reviews I've gotten, I'm just trying to get back to the point where I was when I stopped posting the fic the first time around. I'm just super super focused on that is all.
Thanks to all who have taken time to read this so far! Both the first and second time! I appreciate it more than I can say, really.