Chapter 9: Teachers

I laughed to myself. If Ginny did remember anything, she wasn't making it known. Perhaps she had too much pride to admit she was a little bit drunk. It was the morning and everyone was up and ready, the younger students saddened that they had regular classes.

I had first, all afternoon, a seminar for potioneering. I think that our very own professor Slughorn could have done it himself, because he is very intelligible, but I knew it would have defeated the purpose. Instead, a wise old man with very white medium length hair was teaching us with his own contraptions set out in a tent outside.

He brought in a large flask of Felix Felicis. I couldn't identify half the potions I'm sure he would explain over the course of the afternoon.

First he gave us an introduction to his name, Dr. Bartholomew. Then he talked about what he does, and his work for the ministry and apothecaries, and sometimes, special orders. He seemed really comfortable around kids, which showed, when he brought out more fun stuff to brighten this otherwise dreary career path.

"Now students, there are some who order their ingredients, but your headmaster has graciously provided me with the space of the entire Hogwarts grounds to place ingredients where they are likely to be found. I want you to put yourselves into groups of three, for a scavenger hunt!" There was a pleasant hum all around the students who were here with me, surprised there would be even a little fun for this job. "Once you have yourselves sorted, you will all be given a ten ingredient list to bring back to me. The first group back will get each a tablespoon's worth of liquid luck.

I looked around and realized I literally had no friends. Right, I picked Potioneering as a career.

When almost everyone was in threes, I looked at the Doctor. I had no group. Then, I heard a boy's voice being cleared behind me, letting me know of his presence. He would be in the same seminar as me.

I turned to him, and cowered slightly.

"Don't be shy, Brand, come with me and Malfoy here." Clive's arms were opened wide, and he patted me on the back as I came to his side. Malfoy sneered at me.

"What's your interest in Potioneering?" I asked incredulously.

"What's not to love?" He asked back. I knew for a fact that he complained everyday in our Potions classes.

"That's the same thing I ask myself about you every day."

"So you do think about me," He waggled his eyebrows.

I paused, to roll my eyes, "…Hardly." And I took the ingredients list along with a map of the school grounds. There were little icons that popped off the pages indicating what types of plants and ingredients were grown there.

"Well, we have the… Love potion." I said, clearing my throat.

Clive turned to Malfoy disbelievingly, and sniggered to him, over my head. I wasn't that short but both boys were indeed tall.

Since neither made a move to leave, especially after all the other groups had left to scavenge, I sighed, walking right past them. I knew I'd be the only one doing any of the work.

"First things first, Frozen Ashwinder eggs. Damn, where are we to find those?" I asked myself. I later found that this Bartholomew fellow had set up stations with each ingredient, some of them looking like they had an obstacle to overcome.

"I'm bored."

"Are we done yet?"

"I'm not enjoying this."

"Hurry up, Brand."

"Do you think Pansy would shag me if I grew a moustache?"

The many intelligent words I have heard from idiot one and idiot two over this just dandy adventure.

By the end of an hour, we—sorry, I had acquired all six main ingredients for the love potion, and basically the two male bimbo's had trailed behind me. I had to scourgify myself numerous times, for I had fallen quite a bit in the process of retrieving some of the materials. I noted there were plenty of groups, probably most of them, who were still not back at the tent. We were first.

I felt like giving someone a high-five, however my only companions were possibly the bane of my existence… well, for the moment they were. They had absolutely no skills. If they did, then they did not care to show them. Which struck me as odd, since usually boys would be thought to brag.

As the final groups trickled in, we were presented with the bottles of liquid luck, and I would have snatched up all three vials for myself, if weren't something to make a scene. Oh the price I pay to appear normal.

"Congratulations on the first part of this seminar. Has everyone had fun?" Dr. Bart asked.

"Bloody hell, when is this thing over?" Malfoy asked, rather loud, if you ask me.

"Do you have any tact?" I whispered to him.

The next hour we were made to complete the potion, and he instructed us about his daily schedule.

Once his seminar was over, I gave a huge sigh of relief, and went back up to my common room to have a good rest.

"They're nightmares, Pavarti, I'm telling you!" I exclaimed to my roommate.

"Try surviving six other years with them."

The next morning everyone was talking about the Quidditch seminar today at the pitch today at ten. I presumed it would be a great field day and decided to make my hair up to look it's best. My normally plain hair I had kept it up in a bun to let it dry with a wave to it. I then put on my cleanest uniform sweater, and psyched myself with the idea of Victor Krum actually being at our school.

"You look nice today, " Ginny stated groggily, no doubt a little hung-over.

"And you look…" I tried to find a adjective correct with her sad state, "Ravishing as always, Ginny."

"I hardly saw the point of getting ready this morning." She said, pushing her hair out of her face. I kind of respected that declaration.

"Well eat up, Gryffindor house is looking to impress," I said cheerily, and continued eating my breakfast.

On the pitch, there were plenty of kids. Of course all of the Quidditch players had signed up, and those who hadn't a class had come to watch anyways up in the stands.

Most of us had changed into our Quidditch attire, looking our sharpest.

Krum was not the first to speak. A woman, who I quite recognized had come to the front to speak, "The life of a pro is hard. We train daily, all through the year, all for a chance to make it to play in the Champion game. I'm Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies," She said confidently. "If any of you think for a moment you have what it takes, we are here to tell you that you can't. That's our job. Your job is to prove us wrong. All of us were chosen to specifically scout for the next up and comings."

"Our seminar is to show you a day in the life of a professional Quidditch player." Said a man, who happened to be the seeker of Puddlemere United, Brett Walter.

Every moment of all the matches I've seen when my parents would bring me to the games flashed behind my eyes. These were truly amazing people. I was in a state of shock and awe as they moved theirs jaws to speak, I almost forgot to move, when they told us to spread apart into a large circle.

Our reflexes were tested as Victor Krum pulled out an IQA official snitch. Like the faster kind they use in the World matches. He released it and it flew around the circle.

"Do we have any Seekers here?" He said in his thick Bulgarian accent.

Four out of the some forty students raised their hands, including me.

"This Snitch it about three times faster than your average Hogwarts standard. Go on, test it out." The snitch flew around the Hufflepuff Seeker's head a couple times, and the boy had a hard time watching it, and got dizzy. Next it flew in and behind the Ravenclaw's back, he barely had time to look. Then it came by to tease Malfoy's hand, and whizzed to me. I lunged for it a couple times, but at last caught it before it started spiralling again.

A couple people gasped and I smirked, seemingly modest, when in fact this was a great accomplishment for me, especially in front of very important people.

"Show off," Ginny muttered jokingly as she nudged my elbow.

"Thanks for your support, Weasley." I walked across the circle to hand the snitch back into the experienced hands of Krum and took my place back in the circle.

"After a series of pro-level drills, you will be split into two teams selected by us to play a game just after supper." Gwenog said. Everyone, including me, started talking excitedly. Teams only consisted of seven players, so for only fourteen out of all of these kids, including some who hadn't made the school teams, to be picked made everyone instantly competitive.

Afterwards of immense amounts of training their style, we were all aching. This pain I was feeling was evidently the thing that us at Hogwarts were missing. I was definitely going to get Ginny to amp up our practices. I had originally thought I had better strength and endurance but this put all of those thoughts to rest.

In a snack break about halfway through the practice on a table to the side, Gwenog approached me with her goblet in hand.

"How's your grandma?" She whispered to me, not looking directly at me. "I heard she got out of a nasty scrape with the ministry."

"Helena said she's on the run. But then again, I wouldn't know much since I'm stuck at school. How're the Harpies holding up without her?"

"Decently, I suppose. We're all a bit shaken up without ol' Gran." I thought it was endearing the way the woman's eyes lit up when speaking about my grandmother.

"Who's taken over then?" I asked.

"The assistant coach, but our league has fallen apart since the Ministry's tracking down all the muggleborns. A third of our roster's been checked and we're missing a couple players. I can't imagine how the World teams are faring."

I hadn't really thought about that. Perhaps they would be having a tough time getting "eligible" players. The ministry truly is ridiculous. If you can wield a wand and perform magic like the rest of us, then I honestly see no problem with muggleborns.

Gwenog had left in favour of going back to talk with her fellow Quidditch players, but I was perfectly content with thinking to myself about the bloody ministry.

After the break, they called us back and their assistants had magically set up a course, to which we had to complete in the quickest time on the same brooms. It looked tough but I'd seen in before. My grandmother had taken me to a Quidditch camp for youngsters, and I knew I had the basics down. Other people looked mystified.

One by one, though the track was short, students mounted their brooms, and raced through the course, as several of the pros stood at the finish with their stop watches. I noted a lot of amateur mistakes, but tried not to criticize too much. This was a school, not a training camp.

When finally it was my turn, I kicked off hard, surprising even myself. My broom was of a newer model, so naturally it was easier to handle, and I made my way through the course effectively, tightly turning at all the right spots. I couldn't help but notice the surprise on the Slytherins faces. Note my sarcasm.

"Fifty three seconds." Gwenog shouted for all to hear. I was a good ten seconds ahead of Ginny.

"Pfft, show off." I heard Malfoy mutter maliciously to Clive, who nodded in agreement. And when it was his turn, I came to the front of the students to really evaluate the two idiots' speed. I mean, I'd gone to several of the Slytherins' matches, but they hadn't shown me their true speed.

Malfoy was faster than Clive, given that the latter had let his foot get caught on a wooden plank towards the end. Even still, they were seconds behind my time. As Malfoy's time was shouted aloud he narrowed his eyes, but his housemates still gave him a cheer. I gained a smug expression and even humoured myself by clapping mockingly for him.

"You had a good run, I suppose, Malfoy," I said; as he pushed my shoulder with his own to join his lot.

Later, the handsome Victor Krum had awarded small prizes in the form of memorabilia. I had gotten his first World Cup snitch caught.

"Don't lose this," He said, smiling, and wrapping his large around mine as if to tighten my grip around the small golden ball. I honestly couldn't care less what Malfoy had received.

"You don't have to worry," I said shyly. I pocketed my prize and walked back to my Gryffindor buddies, trying my best to appear calm. How often does this happen? I suppose this school business isn't so bad…