Chapter 10

Over the next week, the story of how Hans had singlehandedly saved the Fire Seed Bushes from freezing to death spread around the school. It had started during dinner the day the accident had occurred. The seventh year Slytherins, apart from Naveen who was still feeling ashamed of himself, had started telling the story to their housemates. Professor Pacha told the same story to the other teachers. The rest had followed suit.

The whole of Slytherin House had started to, if possible, praise Hans more than ever before. The only complaint they had about the incident was that Hans deserved more than just ten house points. Once or twice, a few first years had actually bowed to him as if he was royalty. The Head of Slytherin, Duke Weselton, bragged about Hans in front of every one of his classes. Since he was the Potions teacher, Hans' actions were particularly valiant to him because Fire Seeds were used in many of the potions he taught his students to brew.

After the first week of term had passed, the Slytherins were still gloating about Hans' quick thinking and heroism. The Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws however had had enough of it. Elsa had gotten the impression that Weselton had started bragging to the point of lying. One day while she was walking to the Great Hall, she'd passed a group of fifth years who were coming up from the dungeons, where Potions class took place. As they passed, she'd heard Merida Dunbroch say something to a friend.

"I swear if one word of what he said about South is true, I'll eat a dragon egg."

At breakfast on Saturday, Elsa looked over at the Slytherin table. Hans was surrounded by a flood of his fellow Slytherins, mostly first years. Elsa could not hear what he was saying, but she did not need to hear him to know what he was talking about. It was quite obvious that he was telling an exaggerated story of how the entire Herbology greenhouse had nearly been buried in snow and he had melted the whole of it with one wave of his wand.

Elsa ignored it and returned her attention to her porridge. Belle and Rapunzel were not as afraid to voice their opinions about Hans.

"I don't believe him," said Belle. "He's given a whole new meaning to the word arrogant."

Rapunzel lifted her goblet. "I'll drink to that." And she took a sip of her pumpkin juice.

"We've only finished the first week of school and he's already become a living legend," Belle continued. "And for what? Lighting a few silly bushes on fire."

"I know. It's not like he saved a person's life or anything. And there he is acting like he just won an award for special services to the school," agreed Rapunzel.

"And Weselton has done no favors by glorifying him."

Elsa, who had not stopped thinking negatively about Hans since Diagon Alley, suddenly interrupted. "Let's just stop worrying about him for today. We have more important things to worry about."

This was true. Today, they were having tryouts for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. So far, the three girls were all that made up the team. They were the Chasers. The rest of the team from the year before had all graduated from Hogwarts. As team captain, Elsa's top priority was to find new Beaters, a new Keeper, and a new Seeker by the end of the day. For some reason, this seemed like a much less stressful task than those that being Head Girl had brought her. All she'd be doing was watching other people flying broomsticks and deciding whether or not they were good for the team.

"Right you are, Elsa," said Belle. "The last thing we need today is to have our thoughts darkened by the likes of Hans South."

After finishing their breakfast, the three girls changed into their blue Quidditch robes and made their way down to the Quidditch stadium. Quite a few of their hopeful new teammates were already there and were flying around chasing each other on their brooms.

"It's always nice to see a good turnout," Rapunzel said with a smile.

Elsa would have agreed had she not caught sight of one potential player whose presence was most surprising. Milo Thatch was standing a few yards away from them with a broomstick in one hand and, unless Elsa was mistaken, a Beater's club in the other.

Elsa's eyes widened. "Uh, Milo?" she half shouted.

Milo looked in her direction and waved hello. She made a hand gesture that indicated that she wanted him to come over to where she was. Milo nodded and approached the three girls.

"Hey, guys," he said casually. "Great day for flying, isn't it?"

It was indeed a great day for flying. Warm, clear, and sunny. But that was entirely beside the point.

Elsa cleared her throat and quietly said, "Milo, not to be rude or anything, but what are you doing here?"

"The same thing everyone else is doing here: trying out for Quidditch," Milo said brightly.

Elsa raised her eyebrows. "I see. And the reason you're holding that bat is because?"

"Because I'm trying out for Beater."

This was too much for Elsa to comprehend. In the six years that she'd known Milo, she never considered him to be the athletic type. He was a nerdy, bookish, straight-A student whose idea of free time involved a cup of tea and a mountain of books. And if by some bizarre chance Elsa could picture him on the Quidditch pitch, the last thing she could see him doing was playing Beater. Physically, he did not meet any of the qualifications that made a good Beater. Beaters needed to possess upper body strength, of which Milo had very little. Certainly this had to be a joke.

"Milo, since when did you become the athletic type?"

All Milo could say in response was, "Hey, Carpe Diem."

Elsa looked back at Belle and Rapunzel, who shrugged their shoulders as if to say, "Well, as long as he's here."

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Elsa asked.

"Positive," said Milo.

After a moment's thought, Elsa decided to allow him to play. After all, it was only a tryout. She only hoped his feelings wouldn't be too hurt at the end of the day.

A few minutes later, all of the potential players had arrived. Quite a few people from other houses had come to watch and had seated themselves in the stands. To Elsa's horror, Hans and the rest of the Slytherin team were among them.

"Hello, Ravenclaw!" Hans shouted as the six boys took their seats. "Such an honor it is to grace you with my heroic presence."

Elsa, though furious, ignored him and began drilling her housemates. She, Belle, and Rapunzel soared around the stadium passing each other the bright red quaffle. All the while, she kept a sharp eye on the other players and quietly judged them on their abilities. She was not pleased with most of them. Several of them were physically qualified, but were either too stupid to play properly or were too distracted by the Slytherin team shouting insults at them.

Most likely, it was the latter. Hans and his fellow Slytherins had made it a habit of shouting disgraceful comments at the Ravenclaws. Most of the comments focused on Elsa, Belle, and Rapunzel.

When Rapunzel failed to score a goal, Flynn Ryder shouted, "Hey Bloom! Hook up with me and maybe you could play Quidditch as well as you paint!"

"Hey, Belle!" Gaston shouted at one point. "Time for you and your little friends to toss in the towel! Girls don't belong on the pitch! Why don't you go read a book about Quidditch instead?"

Hans was by far the worst. "I bet you feel lucky, Arendelle! This is the closest you'll ever get to having a social life!"

The more the Slytherins shouted, the harder it became for most of the players to focus. Not that it would have made much difference to Elsa. She was becoming less impressed with every hopeful player she drilled. She actually had to admit that Milo was one of the best Beaters she'd seen all day. He was quick on his broom and at least had good hand-eye coordination, which allowed him to keep bludgers at bay.

The only Beater who was as good as Milo was a heavily built fourth year named Kevin MacGuffin. He had the perfect physique for a Beater and could hit a bludger further than Milo. The only problem with him was that he spoke in a very thick Scottish accent that no one could understand. Elsa brushed this off quickly. It was not like he was in a position that required him to do much talking.

Jane Porter, a sixth year girl with light brown hair and blue eyes, was the only Keeper that Elsa was even slightly satisfied with. She was slightly built and agile, which was perfect for a Keeper, but had only managed to save half of the goals that the Chasers had thrown at her. Still, she was much better than the other talentless nitwits who had shown up.

Only one person had shown up for the Seeker position: an awkward, skinny second year girl whose face was almost completely hidden behind her sleek sheet of black hair. She was certainly light enough to be a Seeker, but she was timid and lacked confidence. She had barely made a sound when Elsa had asked her what her name was. Elsa could just barely make out, "Violet Parr." Clearly this Violet girl was shy. But she was the only one who had shown up, so Elsa gave her a chance. She was pretty good on a broom but rather than the insults from the Slytherins, Violet's distraction was her hair blowing in her face. This had affected her eyesight and caused her to lose sight of the Golden Snitch. But Elsa had to admit that this was the worst of her faults.

By late afternoon, the Ravenclaw Quidditch team was complete.

Elsa summoned the team to the ground to congratulate them. She looked into the bright, happy faces of Belle, Rapunzel, Milo, Kevin, Jane, and Violet. "Well played, everyone," she said in a satisfied tone. "Especially you, Milo. I didn't think you had it in you. I'm really impressed."

"Thanks, Elsa," said Milo.

The sound of laughter erupted from the stands where the Slytherins were sitting.

"This is the Ravenclaw team?" Gaston howled. "It was enough of a laugh that we'd be playing against Mittens and her friends. But this is rich!"

Elsa frowned. She looked at her team and then the Slytherins, as if summing them up. She hated to admit it, but she feared that Gaston might have been right. The Slytherin team was composed entirely of well-built professional Quidditch players who embodied arrogance and unshakable confidence. Her new team was nothing compared to them.

Before the Slytherins left, Hans shouted, "Thanks for the show, Arendelle! We'll look forward to wiping the floor with your team, as soon as we find our new Beater!" And with that, he and his team left the stands laughing their heads off.

What should have been a great day for Elsa had turned out to be a lousy one. She mentally added "inferior new Quidditch team" to her ever-growing list of problems.

End of Chapter