Disclaimer: My God, it's full of JK Rowling!
Chapter 20
Word of Harry's and Hermione's karate skills spread slowly through the castle. For the first couple of days, only a few Gryffindors came to see, then there were a few Ravenclaws as well—scattered across all seven years. The caretaker, Argus Filch, had swung by and grumbled at them at one point, but Hermione pointed out that their practising there wasn't technically against the rules (though that was probably because no one had ever thought to make a rule against it). It wasn't until a week after they first started practising that some interested Hufflepuffs came up from the basement to see them in action.
"Hey guys," a familiar voice called. Harry and Hermione both spun on their heels to see a tall, dark-haired boy coming up the corridor toward them.
"Oh, hi, Justin," Hermione said.
"Hi, Susan, Sophie," Harry added as two Hufflepuff girls followed Justin Finch-Fletchley into the disused corridor.
"So this is where you practice karate?" Justin asked.
"Uh huh," Harry said. "You can watch if you want." Indeed, there were already a couple of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws there to do just that.
"Sure, thanks."
"So, um, what is…karate, exactly?" Susan Bones asked curiously.
"It's a way muggles use to defend themselves," Harry said.
"Most of the time, muggles will only attack with their fists," Hermione explained. "Or maybe a knife. Karate is basically a way of fighting back that's better than most muggles know how to do."
"Okay…" Susan said sceptically.
"Here, we'll show you."
They ran through a kata, stepping across the corridor with lightning-fast strikes. It was clear that Harry was the faster of the two, but Hermione was no slouch either. The muggle-borns, Justin and Sophie were duly impressed.
"Wow, you guys are good," Justin said.
"Thanks," Hermione replied.
Susan, however, was more confused than impressed. Sure they were fast and strong, but it was only muggle fighting, not duelling or fencing or anything that was common in the magical world. "I still don't quite get it," she said. "I mean, it looks cool, but what is it really good for?"
"Well, you remember what Professor Quirrell said about attacks by muggles, right?" Harry said. "Even at our age, the average muggle would think twice about going against that if they weren't trained themselves and didn't have a weapon—mostly because they don't know much about it, but still…"
Susan nodded slowly.
"But it's more than that," Hermione added. "It's really about building up speed and reflexes so we can learn duelling better later. Professor Dumbledore recommended it to us."
"Yeah, we were hoping there'd be a Defence Club or a Duelling Club here or something, but there's not," said Harry. "Maybe Professor Quirrell will let us start one."
"Harry, do you…do you really think…You-Know-Who might come back?" Susan whispered.
"Well, Professor Dumbledore does, and that's good enough for us. After all, if he does come back, Voldemort's—"
"Ahh!" Susan jumped about a foot in the air and clutched a hand to her chest. Justin and Sophie flinched at her reaction.
"Sorry, force of habit. I was just saying if he does come back, he'll be coming for me."
"Okay, do either of you two get the hair on the back of your neck standing up whenever somebody says 'You-Know-Who'?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, yes," Justin said, with Sophie nodding in agreement. "I think you two are the only ones I've heard call him Voldemort—sorry, Susan," he added as the redhead stifled another scream.
"It's kinda creepy," Sophie said. "Nothing like that happens in our world—or the muggle world—or whatever we're supposed to call it."
"Yeah, there's definitely a culture gap," Hermione said. "They had what might as well have been a civil war in the wizarding world ten years ago while our parents all thought things were perfectly fine. It takes some getting used to."
"You're lucky you've known about it for so long," Justin said. "It's so weird how we just found out about it, and suddenly everyone's talking about the war and how destructive it was, and how small our year is because of it, and…" He glanced at Susan and then at Harry. "And all the family they lost. It's just…I have trouble even thinking that way. Is it like that for you?"
"It was at first. We've been reading about it for years, so we understand most of it, but it is different seeing it for real."
"I wish they would have told us all this the first time we did—what, accidental magic, is it? It would've made things a lot easier. My parents seriously thought I was possessed for a while. They called in priests and all kinds of doctors and stuff. And we'd get what's going on here better if we knew sooner, too."
"Yeah, that's pretty close to when we found out," Harry agreed. "We think it helped a lot."
Susan Bones had been silently watching the conversation with interest—once she recovered from hear the Dark Lord's name spoken twice. Intellectually, she knew that the muggle-borns were coming into the wizarding world with no knowledge of the war, but it was still disturbing to her to see it in person. They really didn't know. What must it be like out there with no dark lords and no war orphans and no murderers infiltrating the government? And the world she grew up in must be just as alien to them.
But the strangest part was what Justin said—his parents thought he was possessed? She had a hard time imagining how people who didn't know about magic reacted to it when they were thrust into a world where things that might as well be as impossible as…as…as surviving the Killing Curse went and happened all the time! What must it really be like to them?
And then, a thought that many purebloods probably never had in their lives: why didn't they contact muggle-borns at the first sign of accidental magic? The increased ease of maintaining secrecy alone would—she needed to write Auntie.
"You okay, Susan?" Sophie asked.
"Uh, yeah," she said. "Just thinking."
"So this thing that looks like a big sail just drops out of the sky from nowhere, and there's a person hanging from it. I had to swerve so hard I thought I was gonna spin out the broom. I think he might have seen me, but he sure didn't believe it. Dad told me later he thought it was something called a 'hang glider'. Mum grounded me for a month, though. I mean grounded grounded—no broom riding."
Ron Weasley, like many at the Gryffindor Table, was swapping stories of his supposed exploits on a broomstick as they excitedly awaited their first flying lesson that afternoon. Everyone who grew up in the wizarding world had flown before except Neville, whose grandmother had never let him on account of his having so many mishaps at ground level. Harry was beside himself with anticipation. Flying was perhaps the thing he had most wanted to learn in the wizarding world ever since he first learnt that magic broomsticks were a real thing. Even Hermione was eager to try it out, even though she couldn't claim to be as coordinated as her brother. Neville, on the other hand looked on the verge of panicking at the very thought.
"Don't worry, Neville," Hermione offered. "According to Quidditch Through the Ages, riding a modern broom doesn't sound all that much different from riding a bicycle."
"But I never learnt how to do that either!" Neville whined.
The conversation was cut short but the screeches of the owls as they swooped into the Great Hall to deliver the mail. Harry picked up the newspaper from where Hedwig dropped it beside his plate, while Neville unwrapped a small parcel delivered to him by his grandmother's barn owl.
"Oh, Gran sent me a Remembrall," Neville said excitedly. The others looked up to see. It looked like a large, cloudy marble, or perhaps a miniature crystal ball with swirling smoke inside.
"A Remembrall? I haven't heard of those," Hermione said, surprisingly.
"They're really handy to have," Neville said. "See, you hold it, and it turns red if you've forgotten to do something—oh…" He trailed off as the glass sphere began to glow a harsh red. "Except…now I can't remember what I've forgotten."
Neville frowned in concentration, trying to remember, but Harry was suddenly on high alert, as he had noticed that Draco Malfoy, along with Crabbe and Goyle, had ignored the mail and left the Slytherin Table, and were now heading toward them. Professor McGonagall looked like she was on guard, too, since he saw from the corner of his eye that she had left her place at the High Table and was on her way down.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron demanded, but Harry waved him back.
"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy," he said, very stiffly. "You have some business here?"
"I've been hearing some interesting rumours about you, Mr. Potter," Malfoy said casually.
"Really?" Harry replied. "So have I. About nine books' worth, and a few Prophet articles, too."
"I think you know what I mean, Potter," Malfoy said, dropping the pretence.
"I really don't. Is it the one where I've been training in Defence for years in Japan, the one where I'm so bad at Charms that I need remedial lessons, or the one where I'm concocting a vast and impractically convoluted plan to take over the wizarding world with muggle science?" Ron and Seamus laughed.
Hermione stared at him in confusion. "I haven't heard that last one."
"I know. I just made it up. But the others are all just as ridiculous. You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Mr. Malfoy."
Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to her roommate on her other side. "Lavender, none of those are true, okay?"
"Aw, what about the one about declaring a blood feud with Professor Snape?" Lavender Brown said, disappointed.
Malfoy sneered at the mere suggestion and said, "I've heard that you've been training somewhere, Potter, and that this training is definitely considered 'non-standard'. Are you planning on doing something with it?"
"Not if I don't have to. And why should it matter? I've heard similar things about you." The Gryffindors sniggered.
At that, there was little choice but to change the subject. "Well, I hope you're all set for flying lessons," he said impatiently. "The Slytherins be joining you this afternoon, and I don't want any of you holding us back—have either of you two ever actually been on a broom?" he said to Harry and Hermione.
"No…" Harry said, trying to exaggerate Malfoy's haughty attitude. "We've dabbled in muggle sports a bit—it's not the same, but you take what get out there." Now, Hermione and Ron both stifled a laugh.
Malfoy started grumbling, but McGonagall was closing in. He couldn't say anything too out of line, now, so he turned his attention to the easier target of Neville: "Your Gran sent you a Remembrall, did she, Longbottom? You should really get an elf to remind you of things, like a respectable family."
"Well, G-Gran has her own ideas about how to do things respectably, M-Mr. M-Malfoy," Neville stammered. Most of those watching thought he probably wouldn't have talked back even that much if McGonagall weren't hovering over his shoulder now.
"Clearly," Malfoy said, and he and his goons walked off. Neville breathed a sigh of relief.
"Jeez, I can't believe I'm related to that git," Harry muttered.
"Yeah, me either," Neville said softly. "It's—it's kinda crazy how that works around here. You know…the funny thing is…there was a time when we actually got along."
"What?" Ron yelled. "You and Malfoy?"
"Yeah, see, our families always drag us to Wizengamot meetings and stuff, and all the kids would be in the play area. And when we were really little, we didn't understand how much our families hated each other. But after a while, Malfoy started making fun of me because I'd never done any magic. I think he's still hoping I'll flunk out," Neville said glumly.
"Hey, don't worry about Malfoy, mate," Harry said. "You're worth twelve of him."
"Yeah, Gryffindor beats Slytherin any day," Ron chimed in.
"Thanks…" Neville looked back at the Remembrall in his hand, which was still glowing red. "But what have I forgotten?" He shook the ball in frustration.
Unfortunately, Neville's luck didn't improve that day. The flying lesson went wrong for him twice in the first five minutes.
"Stick your right hand over your broom, and say, 'Up!'."
"Up!"
Harry and Hermione could both feel the magic emanating from their brooms easily. They hadn't tried the exact "spell" of calling a broom before, but the brooms reacted strongly to the magical contact, and they both leapt into their hands. Neville's broom didn't even twitch.
"Come on, mate, it's easy!" Ron said, as he also got his broom to respond quickly.
"Try to feel for it like your wand," Hermione suggested.
Neville tried, but he could only get the broom to roll over. Things just got worse from there, as he kicked off too early on the first exercise, lost his balance, and fell thirty feet, breaking his wrist.
"All of you are to keep both feet firmly on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the Hospital Wing," Madam Hooch warned, glaring equally at the Gryffindors and Slytherins alike. "If I see anyone in the air, you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'."
"What an idiot," said Theodore Nott as soon as the pair were out of earshot. Most of the other Slytherins started laughing. Pansy Parkinson was obviously overdoing it as she stood by Malfoy's side.
"I know, did you see his face?" Malfoy said. He made a passable imitation of Neville's expression.
A tall, dark-haired girl named Elizabeth Runcorn gave her own version: "No it was more like this…"
Daphne Greengrass was the only Slytherin who wasn't laughing now, standing off to the side, looking on with a disapproving look.
"Oh, shut up, guys," Parvati Patil snapped. "He's lucky he wasn't hurt worse."
"Ooh, you're sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy said. "Didn't have you pegged for the fat crybaby type."
Parvati fumed, but didn't say anything more.
"Hey look, Longbottom dropped this," Theo Nott said, snatching something small and crystalline from the grass.
"Let me see," Malfoy said. Nott tossed the ball to him. "Oh, it's that stupid Remembrall his Gran sent him."
"Sheesh, who uses those anymore?" Pansy said.
"Maybe he should've used it," said Elizabeth Runcorn. "He might've remembered to fall on his fat arse."
"Probably better off without it," Malfoy said, tossing and catching the Remembrall in his hand. "He'd probably just lose it like that dumb toad of his."
"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said quietly, stepping forward and staring the boy down.
The Slytherins' laughter went dead silent. They all knew better than to get between two Noble Houses, no matter which side they were on.
Malfoy flashed a wicked smile."You're sticking up for Longbottom, too, are you Potter? Are you declaring an alliance?"
Hermione went very stiff and prayed that her brother remembered Cousin Andi's lessons. The question was clearly a trap. A "yes", even an informal one like this, would have political consequences that they really didn't want to get into. But a "no" would appear disrespectful given the past association between Harry's and Neville's parents.
Thankfully, Harry didn't miss a beat: "I'm declaring that you shouldn't take things that don't belong to you."
Malfoy made that little gesture of slightly turning up his nose that he used whenever he was trying to get the upper hand in a conversation. Then he swung his broomstick around from where it rested on his shoulder—it might have been a casual move, but it swung into a stance where he was ready to leap onto it.
Harry didn't quite go that far, but he did take his broom off his shoulder with tense hands. He hadn't taken his eyes off Malfoy's the entire time, but Malfoy seemed to be all but ignoring that.
"Harry, no, you can't!" Hermione hissed.
Malfoy's eyebrows rose almost imperceptibly, and then he smiled a smile that was probably supposed to look pleasant and gave a small, calculated chuckle. "There's no need to cause trouble, Mr. Potter," he said, as if Harry had started it. "Here, catch."
He threw the Remembrall in Harry's general direction. An average person would have had to jump or scramble to make that catch, but Harry, with his cat-like reflexes honed by years of karate, reached out lightning-quick and snatched the glass sphere from the air one-handed, his eyes barely leaving Malfoy's face and wiping the smirk right off it.
Several of his classmates gasped, and Ron exclaimed, "Wicked! Can you do that on a broom, mate?" Harry shrugged his shoulders.
"I might ask you the same question, Mr. Potter."
The entire class whirled around to see Professor McGonagall stepping out from the shadows by the doors. Both Harry and Draco broke into cold sweats, though they'd never admit it. Just how long had she been standing there?
"And five points to Gryffindor for looking out for your fellow student." Well, that answered that.
"What's going on, Professor?" Hermione asked.
"Well, as it happens, no one has tried out for Seeker this year on the Gryffindor House Quidditch Team," McGonagall explained. "Normally, when a house is unable to field a full team after tryouts, we open up recruitment to first years." There were gasps from both houses on the Training Grounds. "I have come to see if any of my lions are interested in playing. And Mr. Potter, if you are anywhere near as coordinated in the air, and I have every reason to believe you are," she said with a small smile, "I think you would make a fine Seeker, even as a first year, with your parents' permission, of course."
There were still a few titters whenever some mentioned Harry having living parents, but he ignored them. If he'd known a little more wandless magic, has face would have literally lit up at the prospect of being able to play Quidditch this year. Hermione looked at him nervously, hoping he wouldn't do anything rash in his excitement.
"I think I can persuade them, Professor," he said with a grin.
"Potter?" Malfoy said sceptically. "He's never even been on a broom."
"Hey, if he can catch like that, he'll be a great Seeker in no time, right Harry?" Ron said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "You've seen a Quidditch game, at least, right?"
"No, but I've read Quidditch Through the Ages, so I know basically how it works—And I can do fine on a bike, Mr. Malfoy. That's probably a good start."
Malfoy glared at Harry for a few moments, obviously weighing his options. He'd been complaining loudly all week about first years never getting on the house teams and boasting about his training at home. But he turned from Harry to McGonagall and put on an innocent look. "Professor," he said, "it doesn't seem fair for one house to have a larger recruitment pool than the others. I think the first years from the other houses should at least have the chance to try out for Seeker." Then he smiled. "If there are any problems, I'm sure my father can move for some extra exemptions on the Board." Of course, Malfoy had followed all of the tryouts and knew full well that Slytherin's Terrence Higgs was the only Seeker whose position could possibly be threatened. Hufflepuff's Cedric Diggory was miles ahead of the competition, and Ravenclaw had a regular plus their new reserve, Cho Chang in second year.
McGonagall knew all this, too, but she also knew Lucius Malfoy tended to get his way. "That is a reasonable concern, Mr. Malfoy," she said, making an effort to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "Any Slytherin students who wish to try the drills this afternoon may do so, and I will speak to Professor Snape about arranging a re-tryout."
Malfoy grinned smugly at Harry, as did several of the other Slytherins. Harry might be the best Gryffindor had to offer, but by any objective standard, Malfoy would be the favourite to dominate those drills.
"Any trouble out here, Professor?" Madam Hooch had returned from the Hospital Wing.
"Not at all, Madam Hooch," McGonagall told here. "As you know, Gryffindor is in need of a Seeker. I was wondering if, at the end of the lesson, we could run some Seeker drills."
Madam Hooch looked out sceptically over the first years. "Well, I suppose if any of them are good enough on a broom to begin with, we can. I already had to take Longbottom in with a broken wrist—well, nothing for it. Everyone mount your brooms again, we'll get started. And do try to follow after the whistle. You remember your instructions? Kick off from the ground, hard. Rise a few feet, than lean forward slightly to come back down. Ready? Three—two—one—"
Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and nineteen pairs of feet kicked off the ground. Fifteen brooms rose about ten feet in the air and then held still, but four, those ridden by the muggle-raised students, didn't behave as nicely. Dean Thomas and Sally-Anne Perks only got about five feet off the ground. Sally-Anne was wobbling and in danger of falling off, but her friend, Lily Moon, grabbed her hand from above to steady her. Meanwhile, for Harry and Hermione, who were better trained, both physically and magically, the brooms responded more strongly to a hard kick off the ground, and they both shot up over twenty feet like a cork from a champagne bottle.
Hermione's stomach gave a lurch, but she remained steady. Harry, on the other hand, was already wearing a manic grin. This was easy. This was wonderful. He felt like he could just give the broom a little nudge and sail clear around the castle. But McGonagall was watching, and he heard Madam Hooch yelling at them to come back down with the others. They both leaned forward slightly and drifted back down to the ground.
"Well, that was interesting," Hermione muttered.
But Madam Hooch looked happy about the performance. "Good," she said. "We need to do a few of these basic exercises so you can all get a good feel for proper broom handling. Most of you have got off to a good start, but you can always use a refresher. Mr. Thomas and Miss Perks, a little sharper on that kick, and be sure to keep a firm grip. Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, I think you're going to need a little bit of a lighter touch. Now, everyone line back up…Again…"
They ran the exercise several more times until everyone could kick off to the same level. Then they started adding other movements: first pulling up to go higher, then swivelling left and right. The tricky part was learning the difference between going higher and slowing down and, more dangerously, between speeding up and going lower. You had to lean forward to go down, but to gain speed, you had to sort of stretch out along the broom a little bit. That was the closest one could get to "pushing forward" on a broomstick that was already lined up forwards and backwards. And there was a similar confusion pulling up to go higher and pulling back to slow down. Even some of the purebloods needed some brushing up on that, although Malfoy ran all of the exercises easily, looking visibly bored.
Dean and Sally-Anne needed quite a bit of work to get the basic manoeuvres down, and they had several close calls along the way. Hermione was a little unsteady, but she was, as always, a quick study.
"Push your body down closer to the shaft," Ron Weasley said. "It lowers air resistance." Harry and Hermione followed his advice and found themselves gliding forward much more smoothly. Ron may have been a lot of talk, but he did know how to fly. Then, both of their brooms swerved, and they nearly collided. Harry pulled back quickly and let Hermione get in front of him.
"Whoa, watch out!" Ron warned them. "Gotta be careful on the school brooms. Fred and George said a lot of them pull to one side."
"Very good, Mr. Potter, but keep the speed down for now," Madam Hooch said when they'd all returned to the starting line. "I'd like you to run that one again, but arrange yourselves into two rows, above and below. That will give you more room to turn. You'll need that when we add more turns in a few minutes. Everyone ready?"
They kicked off again and drifted into a semblance of a formation, but they hadn't practised arranging formations very much, so it was an awkward prospect
"No, you don't need to turn, just lean straight to the side, like this," Ron suggested. His body tilted to the right, and his broom said directly sideways.
"What?" Hermione said in disbelief. That looked like a good way to fall off.
"It takes some getting used to, but if you keep a good grip, it's fine if you're not going too fast."
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He leaned left and slid effortlessly into his spot in the formation, and Hermione cautiously did the same.
With Ron's and Harry's help, Hermione was getting the hang of flying. By the end of the lesson, she was flying the slow, lazy circles around the training grounds just as well as several of the purebloods in the group. Hovering in the autumn air was really relaxing when she wasn't doing any too intense, she found. But Harry—he was in his element like she had never imagined. He got every manoeuvre on the first or second try, and when he messed up, it was usually for not using a light enough touch. When they got to the free flying period toward the end of the lesson—restricted to low speeds and altitudes and staying within the training grounds—he was literally flying circles around her. Thankfully, the Slytherins and Gryffindors were each keeping to themselves for the moment.
"Isn't this great, Hermione?" Harry yelled.
"It's nice…" she said, trying to turn her head and follow him with her eyes. "Flying up with the birds and all…You look like you're having a little too much fun with it, though." Harry laughed and swooped over and under her. "Okay, seriously, did you sneak Cousin Dora's broom out when we were at her house? No one should be that good their first time flying."
"Nope, just lucky, I guess."
Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and the students rushed back down to the starting line. Professor McGonagall was standing nearby, transfiguring some small stones into what looked like yellow golf balls. "Alright, I think you're ready to try some Seeker Drills," Madam Hooch said, to some excited murmurs. "Be warned, I will not hesitate to ground anyone I see flying recklessly. These will not be easy. There's a reason we don't normally open the teams to first years. Now, everyone who is interested in trying out for the House Teams please step up to the starting line."
Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy immediately stepped forward. So did Ron Weasley, saying, "Eh, I usually play Keeper, but I'll give it a try." Seamus and Lily also stepped forward, as did Blaise Zabini and Elizabeth Runcorn for Slytherin. Harry looked back at his sister and said, "Come on."
Hermione just shook her head.
"Come on, Mione, you should at least try it."
"Well, okay," she conceded, "but I know you can beat me."
"Anyone else?" McGonagall asked as she faced the eight students on the starting line. "Okay, one at a time, then. This will be a very simple drill to begin. I will send these three balls down the training grounds. You objective will be to catch as many as you can before they touch the ground, from a hovering start. And I want to make this a fair contest, so no magic should be used in retrieving them. Understood?" Her eyes lingered on Harry and Hermione with that statement. The students all nodded. "Good. Beginning alphabetically, Mr. Finnigan, mount your broom, please."
Seamus hopped on his broom and kicked off to hover over McGonagall's head.
"Ready, Mr. Finnigan—three—two—one—Depulso."
With her carefully aimed Banishing Charms, McGonagall lobbed the three practice snitches down the Training Grounds one by one. They flew in simple parabolic arcs, not being charmed to actually fly around and evade, like real snitches. Seamus took off like a rocket, faster than anyone had flown during the lesson. The ancient school broom wobbled and protested at the speed, but he kept going. The bright yellow ball was sailing ahead of him, and he lunged and plucked it out of the air. Then he swerved hard to the right and, with a bit of a scramble, grabbed the second one, but the third eluded him. He swooped low for it, but it hit the ground before he could get close enough. Still, the other Gryffindors applauded when he came back to the starting line.
Hermione's turn was next. She looked very nervous when she kicked off the ground. She was pretty well coordinate from karate, but she didn't feel like it would carry over all that well to flying. When McGonagall banished the first practice snitch, she raced toward it, gripping her broom handle as tight as she could, and surprised herself by reaching out and snatching it almost before she knew what was happening. She took a different strategy from Seamus and ignored the second ball, not expecting to be able to be able to get it that fast, and instead focused on the third, which was racing toward her. She flew toward it and caught it so fast that it stung her hand. The Slytherins looked annoyed at a muggle-born flying so well her first time as she returned to the starting line, but Harry was applauding loudly and shouting, "Way to go, Hermione!" When she landed, she was quickly mobbed by Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who insisted on asking what her "secret" was.
Malfoy was up, and from the moment his feet left the ground, it was clear that he hadn't been lying. He really was that good. He swooped back and forth across the Training Grounds and caught all three practice snitches with ease. The Slytherins all cheered, and upon seeing that performance, Blaise Zabini just shook his head and put his broom down.
Lily Moon was a surprise breakout and also managed to catch all three balls, though not without difficulty, and then it was Harry's turn.
"Come on, go and beat Malfoy," Ron encouraged him, but Harry was just worried about doing better than Lily and making the team. But either way, he was ready to see what these school brooms could really do. When McGonagall let the first ball fly, Harry raced after it, compensating for the broom's pull to the left without even thinking about it. The yellow ball grew larger in his glasses and then, in an instant, it was in his hand. He pocketed it as he swung around looking for the second one. He spotted it at once and made a beeline for it, and nabbed the third just a moment later. He certainly wasn't gracefully swooping, like Malfoy, though. Harry was a hunter, and he was charging straight at his prey at top speed.
That was too easy, he thought. As he raced back to the starting line, some of the Gryffindors were cheering, but others were standing open-mouthed, amazed that he could move so fast. McGonagall shot him a feral grin that he was sure only he could spot, and, just as Blaise had done, Ron shook his head and put his broom down. So did Hermione. So did Seamus. Lily was still in, but Harry could tell she knew she was outclassed.
"Potter, you liar!" Malfoy stepped forward, coming nose-to-nose with him. "How long have you really been flying?"
"Really, Malfoy, this is my first day," Harry said calmly. "I'm sure there's plenty in the upper years who are better than me."
"Uh-uh. No one's that good their first day."
But Harry just smiled. "You'd be surprised what you can learn from muggle sports, Mr. Malfoy."
"Ahem," McGonagall interrupted before Malfoy could respond. "I believe Miss Runcorn still has to fly."
Elizabeth Runcorn also managed to catch all three balls, making it four of them to continue to the next drill.
For the second drill, McGonagall made things quite a bit harder, standing in the middle of the Training Grounds and banishing no fewer than ten balls into the air, still one at a time, but in every direction. Malfoy again dazzled the class with his acrobatics and caught nine of them. Harry was sure McGonagall was starting to get a little annoyed herself at the Slytherin's prowess by the end. Lily tried her best and caught seven.
Harry knew he would probably make the House Team if he caught eight, but it would be nice to beat Malfoy, too. McGonagall didn't go easy on him, though. He was darting back and forth across the Training Grounds in full hunting mode, remembering his experience chasing after mice and birds in his younger days. Three! Four! Five! He did a back-flip and rolled over when one ball went into a far corner to get back to the middle as fast as possible. Seven! Eight! Nine! He was sure he'd won the tryouts, but he wanted that perfect score. He saw McGonagall's last ball soar high into the air at the far corner of the Training Grounds. It was too far! But he had to try. He leaned forward hard and stretched himself out along the broom, launching into a steep dive, determined to make the catch in time. He heard several voices scream out, "Harry!", and he was sure one of them was McGonagall's. He stretched out a hand and caught the ball what seemed like a foot from the ground, just in time—barely—to pull his broom straight. With his momentum, he tumbled off the side and onto the grass, but he thrust his fist triumphantly into the air.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Harry sat up quickly at Professor McGonagall's shouting over the cheers of his classmates. He was sure he heard her hiss at him as she approached. But before he could react, he was blinded by a mass of bushy brown hair as his sister nearly bowled him over in a frantic hug.
"Oh, thank God you're alright," Hermione whimpered. Harry smiled at her as she pulled away, but then she whacked him in the side of the head, hard. "Harry James Potter, don't you ever scare me like that again!" she yelled. "What was I supposed to tell Mum and Dad if you broke your neck up there?"
A few of the Slytherins sniggered at the Boy-Who-Lived getting smacked by the one person in the school who could smack him and get away with it, and a few others sniggered at the trouble they were sure he was about to get into—but those weren't the smart ones.
"Harry Potter, never in all my time at Hogwarts—" McGonagall started, but words seemed to fail her.
"You're lucky the lesson's over, Mr. Potter, because that definitely counts as reckless," Madam Hooch scolded.
"Eh, sorry, Professors," Harry said nervously. "I guess I got a little carried away."
"A little?" It was Ron speaking. "Bloody hell, Harry, I don't think my brother Charlie could have made that catch."
"Really?" Harry said sceptically. "But wasn't he Captain or something?"
But McGonagall confirmed it: "Mr. Weasley may well be right, Mr. Potter. I believe Gryffindor has found its new Seeker."
"Uh—uh, thank you, ma'am?" Harry stammered.
McGonagall ran Elizabeth Runcorn through the drill, but she only caught eight balls and graciously conceded defeat to Malfoy.
"If you would come with me, I would like to introduce you to Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Team Captain," McGonagall told Harry. "Miss Granger, you may come along too, if you like. Mr. Malfoy…" she turned to face the blond boy. "Excellent performance," she said halfheartedly. "I will inform Professor Snape and Captain Flint."
"Thank you Professor," Malfoy replied, with a smile that would have been a lot more smug if he hadn't just been beat out by Harry Potter.
"By the way, Miss Granger, you're not a bad flier yourself," McGonagall said as she led them away. "I think you might wish to consider trying out for Chaser next year."
Hermione blinked in disbelief. "Really, Professor?"
"Your brother's performance notwithstanding, that really was a good showing for your first time on a broom, and the strategic thinking you showed would be excellent for the Chaser position."
"Hermione, that would be great if we could be on the team together," Harry said.
"Wow, thank you, Professor. Um, I'll think about that."