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A reminder of the main characters:
Rose Weasley - Ron and Hermione's daughter, Sorted into Ravenclaw
Alice Longbottom - Neville and Hannah's daughter, Sorted into Ravenclaw
Albus Severus Potter - Harry and Ginny's son, Sorted into Gryffindor
Scorpius Malfoy - Draco and Astoria's son, Sorted into Gryffindor
Lorcan Scamander - Luna and Rolf's son, Sorted into Gryffindor
Lysander Scamander - Luna and Rolf's son, Sorted into Slytherin
Lia Creevey - Dennis Creevey's daughter, Half-Blood, Sorted into Hufflepuff
Aisha Siddiqui - Muggleborn, Sorted into Slytherin
Chapter Eleven: I'm A Shooting Star, Leaping Through The Sky
October 2018 - Al's First Quidditch Match
Albus stared at the sausages that were heaped in front of him, and swallowed. He turned away, possibly the first time since arriving at Hogwarts that he had refused a Hogwarts breakfast.
"Relax, Al," Rose said gently, offering the plate of toast to him. "I've seen you as a Seeker. You're fantastic."
"But I was terrible in my tryouts," he croaked.
"And fantastic in your practise sessions," Scorpius reminded him. Given that no other student had applied to join the Quidditch team, Albus had become the Seeker more by default than anything else. As Scorpius said, he'd done alright in most of the Quidditch practices. He couldn't help it - flying after the Snitch was so fun when there was no stress on him, so why wouldn't he do well?
Albus shrugged. "There wasn't anything important about it. But when there is….it seems like the world is moving so much faster than me."
Rose considered saying that the world always moved faster than Al's brain, but decided that it would be unkind, given the circumstances. He was about to take on Hufflepuff in the first Quidditch match of the season, and his nerves were getting the better of him. According to Lorcan and Scorpius, he'd gotten very little sleep the previous night.
Their cousin Fred wasn't helping. Quidditch captain, he had impressed on Albus at every practice how important it was that they retained the Quidditch cup, especially because he intended to follow Quidditch as a career – and scouts might be at any match.
He hovered around, trying to encourage Albus, but only reminding him why he was nervous. In the end Roxanne, his sister and a Chaser on the team, grabbed hold of him and dragged him away. Albus soon followed, having only managed to choke down a single slice of toast.
Lia met him at the door to the Entrance Hall. "Good luck," she said. As a Hufflepuff, she had to support her House, but Albus knew that she honestly meant it.
"You too," he said.
"I hope that Hufflepuff win but you catch the Snitch," Alice told him. She was also supporting Hufflepuff – she seemed to make it a personal belief that she should never support Gryffindor, putting Ravenclaw first, Slytherin second and Hufflepuff third in her list of priorities.
But she was still a good friend.
They headed down to the pitch, surrounded by students. The day was warm and sunny, and so the spectator stands would be full.
Albus gulped.
"You'll be bloody fantastic," Scorpius told him. "And even if you're not – the rest of the team is, so you can just say that you were waiting to catch the Snitch until you were high enough on points."
Oddly enough, this actually made Albus feel better, and he managed to grin at Scorpius before heading into the changing rooms. As he changed into his Quidditch robes, he felt the churning in his stomach intensify.
People could say that this was unimportant all they liked, but his Dad had saved the world – and still one of the first facts that people remembered about him was that he'd been an amazing Seeker. Everyone out there was expecting him to live up to his family name.
He didn't hear the cheering or the whoops as they walked out onto the pitch. It was strange – as a spectator he'd always expected that hearing the applause must be one of the best parts.
It wasn't that it was so quiet so as to be inaudible, either. It had just receded, as his entire brain changed to think about two things.
Look for Snitch; move broom. That was it.
Oh, and occasionally he had to remember to breathe.
He barely even noticed the presence of the other team, as he kicked off the ground and soared into the air on his broom. Or his own team. There was him, the air and the Snitch.
He did hear the announcer's comments, but filed them in a part of his brain that wasn't really important right now. And, focused like this, he watched the other Seeker and searched the air for that golden glint.
The gentle breeze that blew meant he wasn't even distracted by the hot sun burning down.
Out in the spectator stands, Aisha watched, biting her fingernails. She wanted Hufflepuff to have a good go at it, for Lia's sake – but she wanted Al to catch the Snitch even more.
"He seems to be circling a lot," she muttered to Rose, who'd had greater experience of watching Quidditch. "Is that good or bad?"
"It's better than staying still. That can mean that you've totally zoned out, and got all lost in your thoughts." The redhead smiled. "That's why I was a terrible Seeker."
Aisha smiled. "I suppose to be a Keeper, you have to be constantly awake and in the game?" she asked.
Rose nodded. "You have to be awake to be a Seeker too," she conceded. "One lapse in concentration could be the difference between a win and a lose, whereas it's only ten points for a Keeper. But it's easier to stay in the game if you're a Keeper. Everything's constantly moving, you don't have to remind yourself to stay alert. As a Seeker, you're so isolated that you can almost drift off."
"Look!" Scorpius suddenly yelled, pointing at Albus. "He's seen something!"
Sure enough, Albus was pelting towards the Hufflepuff end of the pitch. He'd flattened himself to his broom, all to gain more speed.
The rest of the team played on, knowing from experience that if you looked every time that a Seeker sighted the Snitch, you'd lose by a massive points margin. But the spectators watched for them.
Albus wasn't aware of any of this. He could just see the other Seeker, equally far from that dancing golden speck. And the speck, growing every second in his vision.
He urged his broom onwards under his breath. To be so close and not make it would be agonising.
At the last second the Snitch zipped upwards, but Albus wouldn't let it go. Equally quickly, he tilted his broom vertical and soared straight through the Snitch's line of flight.
Snatching it from the air as he went.
The referee blew his whistle. The crowd erupted in cheers, even those who had supported Hufflepuff clapping politely. Quidditch was so electrifying that it was impossible not to get caught up, even if you didn't really like sports in theory. When you were there, in that stadium, the atmosphere just caught you up and dragged you along with it, even if you didn't quite reach the excitement levels of those such as Rose, who was on her feet and clapping above her head.
Even Aisha, her usual dignity forgotten, was cupping her hands to her mouth and letting out wild whoops.
The Hufflepuff Seeker, a brawny fifth year whose name Albus did not know, grinned at him. "Nice catch," he said appreciatively. "Not sure if I'd been able to turn upwards that quickly."
"I was just closer to begin with," Albus said shyly.
"But you saw it, and that's what counts. Good luck for your next match, Potter. I hope I meet you again in the final. We might get a different result next time."
Albus didn't have chance to respond. He'd just been pounced on by six very excited relatives of his, all of them hugging him enthusiastically and talking at once.
The grin stayed on his face all the way to the changing rooms, his broom in one hand and the Golden Snitch, little wings fluttering against his fingers in the other.
Well?
How's my Quidditch writing, given that I'm definitely one of the aforementioned people who don't like sports in theory?
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