Chapter Two: Broomsticks and Keepers
Almost all of Gryffindor had assembled to watch the tryouts. Scanning the growing crowd, Ron smiled in relief to see that Malfoy and his cronies were not there and looked at who would be his competition. Clustered nervously around Madam Hooch were six other Gryffindors, all glancing at each other as furtively as possible and clutching their respective brooms as if their lives depended on it. Standing off in a similar circle a few feet away was the Gryffindor team, engaged in a conference of some sorts. Harry was next to Fred and George—he hadn't seen Ron yet and for that his best friend was grateful. His competition was fierce enough without having to worry about what Harry thought of his being here. Everyone who he had predicted had turned up and it figured that he would be the last one to arrive. Last. If only Hermione…Hermione! With a start, Ron remembered that she was still standing next to him and he turned to look at her somewhat sheepishly. Eyes also scanning his competition, Hermione flashed him a smile and said quickly,
"Good luck, Ron."
"Thanks," he replied, still not moving to join the other would-be-Keepers.
Opening her mouth as if to say more and then thinking better of it, Hermione hovered uncertainly in front of him for a moment before dashing off to find a seat in the stands. She just kept getting weirder, Hermione. Watching her scurry off to take a seat next to Ginny, Ron shook his head at her and went to join the other Gryffindors. Knowing Hermione, she thought there wasn't any glamour in the Keeper position, seeing as her precious Vicky was Seeker. Quidditch, Weasley, Quidditch! Ron resisted the urge to scan the crowd a second time for Hermione and Ginny and walked up to Madam Hooch. There was no Hermione, only Quidditch. If only he could believe it.
Looking as strained as the six participants hovering around her, Madam Hooch nodded in satisfaction as she saw Ron and made a mark on the piece of parchment she was holding.
"Ah, Weasley, you're here. Good. I believe we can begin now. Wait here while I have a word with the team and then I'll be back to explain what you'll be doing." All seven of them nodded and Madam Hooch bustled over to consult with the current members of the Gryffindor team.
Once or twice Ron caught a glimpse of Fred and George flashing him enthusiastic grins and he did his best to return him. Harry, extremely interested in what Madam Hooch was saying, did not look up at all. Despite his earlier desire for Harry not to know, Ron couldn't decide if this was good or bad. Leaving a furiously nodding Gryffindor team—what was with everybody—Madam Hooch strode back to where Ron and the others stood, her features grim.
"All right. You're here because there's an opening on the Gryffindor team for the position of Keeper, yes? No one thinks they get to be Seeker or a Beater? And you are all at least in your second year, yes? Then draw."
Thrusting a fist towards them, Madam Hooch pointedly waited for one of them to step forward and take one of the seven different colored marbles in her hand. Watching everyone around him hesitate, Ron swallowed and stepped forward to take the first one. Staring down at the six marbles, his fingers hovered over each one in turn before he finally seized the orange one in deference to the Chudley Cannons. Orange had to be lucky for him. Following Ron's example, the other six applicants took a marble and looked up at Madam Hooch wonderingly. Still wearing a grim expression, Madam Hooch took out her wand and said,
"The order that the colors appear in is the order in which you will try out."
Checking his impulse to nod along with everyone else, Ron simply watched as a burst of sparks shot out of Madam Hooch's wand and began to form seven bars of color. Red, purple, yellow, blue, green, orange and white. Ron frowned at the marble in his hand as the bars of color disappeared. 6th out of 7 possible, he knew Fred and George were laughing. At least he wasn't last…that unfortunate fate had fallen to a 4th year girl who looked as if she were about to burst into tears.
"Everyone know their place? You will be evaluated on the following: How many goals you save or let through the goal, your flying skill, and how quickly you can think in a tricky situation. There will be no Bludgers involved, the Beaters and the Seeker are here to act as impartial judges. Step forward, Red!"
The first, another 4th year, stepped forward and Ron went to stand in line with the others, his nerves steadily rising. Impartial judges, Fred, Harry, and George. Had Madam Hooch specifically meant that they were to be impartial while he was flying? Ron was aware of the glances being sent his way by the other hopeful Keepers and determined that the comment had been meant for him. Did no one in all of Hogwarts think he was capable of doing anything on his own merit, and not because he was Fred and George's brother or Harry's friend?! Apparently not. He supposed that his being good at chess could even be attributed to someone else. After all, he was just plain old Ron Weasley, with nothing to show for his fifteen years of age but an uncanny knack of winning at chess. And even that could probably be taken away from him.
Ron raised his eyes to watch the first participant try and keep Angelina, Alicia, and Katie from scoring. Watching Quidditch, in whatever form, thankfully, was enough to take his mind off all of the things which kept troubling him and he so detached while he watched, that he was able to evaluate the 4th year's skill fairly. All the way down the line he watched as if he were not intending to try out, as if he were carelessly seated in the stands with Ginny and Hermione—get out, Granger—or side by side with his fellow Gryffindor teammates. Keep dreaming, Weasley. Oddly enough, he was not nervous, not even when the blue Keeper missed only one throw of the Quaffle and the green participant rose into the air to begin his session. This time he did not watch, however, spending the time reviewing his own strategy and what he knew of the Gryffindor Chasers. To their credit, Fred and George had not given him one inside tip during his summer training. What he knew was based solely upon what he had observed at other matches. He had a few tricks up his own sleeve, too…hopefully it would be enough. If not…he would have to chalk it up as just another thing he wasn't good at. The green participant landed, having missed only three goals, and it was his turn at last.
"Weasley," Madam Hooch barked.
Stepping forward, Ron felt the orange marble disintegrate in his hand and he gritted his teeth before mounting his broom. Rising up into the air, he flew around the goal hoops twice in order to warm up and then positioned himself in front to wait. The Chasers were huddled in a mini-conference—which was not very reassuring—and he found himself scanning the crowd while he waited, easily picking out Ginny with her Weasley hair and Hermione, on the very edge of her seat, watching him. Maybe she thought he was good enough to be here…no time for that, Weasley, they're coming. Everything other than Quidditch became a blur and Ron began to fly back and forth before the goal posts, his gaze riveted on the Quaffle.
They would take it easy on him at first, he knew, in order to lull him into a false sense of confidence. It had worked with the sole second year trying out, but it wouldn't with him. Ron easily blocked the first attempt they made but kept a wary eye out just the same. Time after time they threw the Quaffle towards any of the three hoops and somehow, sometimes, admittedly, just by pure luck, he always managed to intercept it. In the back of his mind he knew that everyone was watching him, just waiting for him to miss and wondering if he would be the only one who they couldn't get past. He didn't dare think it himself. Once he caught a glimpse of Ginny and Hermione, both of them sitting in the same position of agitation and he made a note to laugh at them about it later. Successfully catching the Quaffle again, Ron lazily threw it back to Alicia and waited as the three chasers retired for one last conference.
He had been out here longer than anybody else and unless he was mistaken, this would be their last and trickiest attempt to get past him. Gripping his broom tightly, Ron hovered tensely as the Chasers bore down on him once more, acutely aware that this was the deciding moment of his try-out. Alicia threw to Katie, who was clearly heading towards the far right goal and he drifted towards it uncertainly…it seemed too easy. Katie, bearing down on him, suddenly threw to Angelina, who was perfectly positioned for the far left hoop. Backtracking, Ron zoomed towards the other end of the goal posts, only to see Angelina pitch the Quaffle back to Katie who was still in position for the right hoop. It was risky, but he could do it. Not changing direction, Ron sped around the back of the hoops, evoking a cry of alarm from the watching crowd. Just a little faster, a little faster…his broom quivered beneath him, but he rounded the corner just as Katie released the Quaffle, darting between it and the goal with his hand outstretched. There was a second where time seemed to stop and then the Quaffle collided with his hands and his fingers automatically closed around it as he continued to zoom around the goal hoops.
Ron circled the goal two more times before he was able to slow down, descending towards the ground in a haze of disbelief. The Quaffle was still in his right hand, a solid reminder, and yet it still didn't seem real. One second…one second later and Katie would have scored. One second. His feet hit the ground and he climbed off his broom, throwing the Quaffle to Katie and rejoining the others. The 4th year girl who had drawn last let out a nervous shriek at the sight of him and scurried away.
Reality was slowly beginning to dawn on Ron, starting with the fact that his last save had been nothing short of spectacular, but he didn't really believe it. Scanning the stands, he saw Hermione and Ginny hugging each other—girls—and began to smile. Not even bothering to watch the poor girl currently trying to block the Quaffle, he looked briefly at the grounded members of the Gryffindor team. Fred and George looked absolutely flabbergasted—Ron couldn't recall ever seeing their eyes so wide—and Harry…Harry was grinning from ear to ear. Returning the grin, Ron remembered to watch the 4th year girl in time to see her miss her tenth goal in a row and hear Madam Hooch call her down. He felt slightly guilty…the poor girl had obviously done worse than she would have had she not gone after him, but there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn't even thought that it would work.
"Congratulations to all of you for a job well done. The team requests fifteen minutes to decide among themselves. Weasley?" Madam Hooch motioned for him to approach her and Ron jerkily rose to his feet, the six other participants looking extremely glum as he did. Running a hand through his hair, Ron nervously approached Madam Hooch. Lips twitching as if they wanted desperately to smile, Madam Hooch lowered her voice and said,
"That was a spectacular save, Weasley. As spectacular as the first time Potter caught the Snitch. Well done."
"Er…thanks," Ron stammered, running his hand through his hair again and causing it to stick up in all sorts of directions.
Hurriedly going back to sit with the others, who all scooted away as if he smelled funny, Ron turned his attention to the still talking Gryffindor team. They were still deep in conversation…must need the entire fifteen minutes. Cheerfully plucking at the grass on the field—great, now it was a habit—Ron waited it out, his thoughts drifting more and more to what Hermione had to say to him rather than the outcome of the try-outs.
Finally the team came to a decision, producing a new set of Quidditch robes and marching as a group towards the seven participants. If he had wanted any encouraging signs from Harry or his brothers, Ron was out of luck. The three of them had maddeningly neutral expressions, just like the faces of everyone else on the team, and at last, Katie stepped forward, a small smile creeping onto her face as she announced,
"The new Keeper for Gryffindor is…"
Almost all of Gryffindor had assembled to watch the tryouts. Scanning the growing crowd, Ron smiled in relief to see that Malfoy and his cronies were not there and looked at who would be his competition. Clustered nervously around Madam Hooch were six other Gryffindors, all glancing at each other as furtively as possible and clutching their respective brooms as if their lives depended on it. Standing off in a similar circle a few feet away was the Gryffindor team, engaged in a conference of some sorts. Harry was next to Fred and George—he hadn't seen Ron yet and for that his best friend was grateful. His competition was fierce enough without having to worry about what Harry thought of his being here. Everyone who he had predicted had turned up and it figured that he would be the last one to arrive. Last. If only Hermione…Hermione! With a start, Ron remembered that she was still standing next to him and he turned to look at her somewhat sheepishly. Eyes also scanning his competition, Hermione flashed him a smile and said quickly,
"Good luck, Ron."
"Thanks," he replied, still not moving to join the other would-be-Keepers.
Opening her mouth as if to say more and then thinking better of it, Hermione hovered uncertainly in front of him for a moment before dashing off to find a seat in the stands. She just kept getting weirder, Hermione. Watching her scurry off to take a seat next to Ginny, Ron shook his head at her and went to join the other Gryffindors. Knowing Hermione, she thought there wasn't any glamour in the Keeper position, seeing as her precious Vicky was Seeker. Quidditch, Weasley, Quidditch! Ron resisted the urge to scan the crowd a second time for Hermione and Ginny and walked up to Madam Hooch. There was no Hermione, only Quidditch. If only he could believe it.
Looking as strained as the six participants hovering around her, Madam Hooch nodded in satisfaction as she saw Ron and made a mark on the piece of parchment she was holding.
"Ah, Weasley, you're here. Good. I believe we can begin now. Wait here while I have a word with the team and then I'll be back to explain what you'll be doing." All seven of them nodded and Madam Hooch bustled over to consult with the current members of the Gryffindor team.
Once or twice Ron caught a glimpse of Fred and George flashing him enthusiastic grins and he did his best to return him. Harry, extremely interested in what Madam Hooch was saying, did not look up at all. Despite his earlier desire for Harry not to know, Ron couldn't decide if this was good or bad. Leaving a furiously nodding Gryffindor team—what was with everybody—Madam Hooch strode back to where Ron and the others stood, her features grim.
"All right. You're here because there's an opening on the Gryffindor team for the position of Keeper, yes? No one thinks they get to be Seeker or a Beater? And you are all at least in your second year, yes? Then draw."
Thrusting a fist towards them, Madam Hooch pointedly waited for one of them to step forward and take one of the seven different colored marbles in her hand. Watching everyone around him hesitate, Ron swallowed and stepped forward to take the first one. Staring down at the six marbles, his fingers hovered over each one in turn before he finally seized the orange one in deference to the Chudley Cannons. Orange had to be lucky for him. Following Ron's example, the other six applicants took a marble and looked up at Madam Hooch wonderingly. Still wearing a grim expression, Madam Hooch took out her wand and said,
"The order that the colors appear in is the order in which you will try out."
Checking his impulse to nod along with everyone else, Ron simply watched as a burst of sparks shot out of Madam Hooch's wand and began to form seven bars of color. Red, purple, yellow, blue, green, orange and white. Ron frowned at the marble in his hand as the bars of color disappeared. 6th out of 7 possible, he knew Fred and George were laughing. At least he wasn't last…that unfortunate fate had fallen to a 4th year girl who looked as if she were about to burst into tears.
"Everyone know their place? You will be evaluated on the following: How many goals you save or let through the goal, your flying skill, and how quickly you can think in a tricky situation. There will be no Bludgers involved, the Beaters and the Seeker are here to act as impartial judges. Step forward, Red!"
The first, another 4th year, stepped forward and Ron went to stand in line with the others, his nerves steadily rising. Impartial judges, Fred, Harry, and George. Had Madam Hooch specifically meant that they were to be impartial while he was flying? Ron was aware of the glances being sent his way by the other hopeful Keepers and determined that the comment had been meant for him. Did no one in all of Hogwarts think he was capable of doing anything on his own merit, and not because he was Fred and George's brother or Harry's friend?! Apparently not. He supposed that his being good at chess could even be attributed to someone else. After all, he was just plain old Ron Weasley, with nothing to show for his fifteen years of age but an uncanny knack of winning at chess. And even that could probably be taken away from him.
Ron raised his eyes to watch the first participant try and keep Angelina, Alicia, and Katie from scoring. Watching Quidditch, in whatever form, thankfully, was enough to take his mind off all of the things which kept troubling him and he so detached while he watched, that he was able to evaluate the 4th year's skill fairly. All the way down the line he watched as if he were not intending to try out, as if he were carelessly seated in the stands with Ginny and Hermione—get out, Granger—or side by side with his fellow Gryffindor teammates. Keep dreaming, Weasley. Oddly enough, he was not nervous, not even when the blue Keeper missed only one throw of the Quaffle and the green participant rose into the air to begin his session. This time he did not watch, however, spending the time reviewing his own strategy and what he knew of the Gryffindor Chasers. To their credit, Fred and George had not given him one inside tip during his summer training. What he knew was based solely upon what he had observed at other matches. He had a few tricks up his own sleeve, too…hopefully it would be enough. If not…he would have to chalk it up as just another thing he wasn't good at. The green participant landed, having missed only three goals, and it was his turn at last.
"Weasley," Madam Hooch barked.
Stepping forward, Ron felt the orange marble disintegrate in his hand and he gritted his teeth before mounting his broom. Rising up into the air, he flew around the goal hoops twice in order to warm up and then positioned himself in front to wait. The Chasers were huddled in a mini-conference—which was not very reassuring—and he found himself scanning the crowd while he waited, easily picking out Ginny with her Weasley hair and Hermione, on the very edge of her seat, watching him. Maybe she thought he was good enough to be here…no time for that, Weasley, they're coming. Everything other than Quidditch became a blur and Ron began to fly back and forth before the goal posts, his gaze riveted on the Quaffle.
They would take it easy on him at first, he knew, in order to lull him into a false sense of confidence. It had worked with the sole second year trying out, but it wouldn't with him. Ron easily blocked the first attempt they made but kept a wary eye out just the same. Time after time they threw the Quaffle towards any of the three hoops and somehow, sometimes, admittedly, just by pure luck, he always managed to intercept it. In the back of his mind he knew that everyone was watching him, just waiting for him to miss and wondering if he would be the only one who they couldn't get past. He didn't dare think it himself. Once he caught a glimpse of Ginny and Hermione, both of them sitting in the same position of agitation and he made a note to laugh at them about it later. Successfully catching the Quaffle again, Ron lazily threw it back to Alicia and waited as the three chasers retired for one last conference.
He had been out here longer than anybody else and unless he was mistaken, this would be their last and trickiest attempt to get past him. Gripping his broom tightly, Ron hovered tensely as the Chasers bore down on him once more, acutely aware that this was the deciding moment of his try-out. Alicia threw to Katie, who was clearly heading towards the far right goal and he drifted towards it uncertainly…it seemed too easy. Katie, bearing down on him, suddenly threw to Angelina, who was perfectly positioned for the far left hoop. Backtracking, Ron zoomed towards the other end of the goal posts, only to see Angelina pitch the Quaffle back to Katie who was still in position for the right hoop. It was risky, but he could do it. Not changing direction, Ron sped around the back of the hoops, evoking a cry of alarm from the watching crowd. Just a little faster, a little faster…his broom quivered beneath him, but he rounded the corner just as Katie released the Quaffle, darting between it and the goal with his hand outstretched. There was a second where time seemed to stop and then the Quaffle collided with his hands and his fingers automatically closed around it as he continued to zoom around the goal hoops.
Ron circled the goal two more times before he was able to slow down, descending towards the ground in a haze of disbelief. The Quaffle was still in his right hand, a solid reminder, and yet it still didn't seem real. One second…one second later and Katie would have scored. One second. His feet hit the ground and he climbed off his broom, throwing the Quaffle to Katie and rejoining the others. The 4th year girl who had drawn last let out a nervous shriek at the sight of him and scurried away.
Reality was slowly beginning to dawn on Ron, starting with the fact that his last save had been nothing short of spectacular, but he didn't really believe it. Scanning the stands, he saw Hermione and Ginny hugging each other—girls—and began to smile. Not even bothering to watch the poor girl currently trying to block the Quaffle, he looked briefly at the grounded members of the Gryffindor team. Fred and George looked absolutely flabbergasted—Ron couldn't recall ever seeing their eyes so wide—and Harry…Harry was grinning from ear to ear. Returning the grin, Ron remembered to watch the 4th year girl in time to see her miss her tenth goal in a row and hear Madam Hooch call her down. He felt slightly guilty…the poor girl had obviously done worse than she would have had she not gone after him, but there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn't even thought that it would work.
"Congratulations to all of you for a job well done. The team requests fifteen minutes to decide among themselves. Weasley?" Madam Hooch motioned for him to approach her and Ron jerkily rose to his feet, the six other participants looking extremely glum as he did. Running a hand through his hair, Ron nervously approached Madam Hooch. Lips twitching as if they wanted desperately to smile, Madam Hooch lowered her voice and said,
"That was a spectacular save, Weasley. As spectacular as the first time Potter caught the Snitch. Well done."
"Er…thanks," Ron stammered, running his hand through his hair again and causing it to stick up in all sorts of directions.
Hurriedly going back to sit with the others, who all scooted away as if he smelled funny, Ron turned his attention to the still talking Gryffindor team. They were still deep in conversation…must need the entire fifteen minutes. Cheerfully plucking at the grass on the field—great, now it was a habit—Ron waited it out, his thoughts drifting more and more to what Hermione had to say to him rather than the outcome of the try-outs.
Finally the team came to a decision, producing a new set of Quidditch robes and marching as a group towards the seven participants. If he had wanted any encouraging signs from Harry or his brothers, Ron was out of luck. The three of them had maddeningly neutral expressions, just like the faces of everyone else on the team, and at last, Katie stepped forward, a small smile creeping onto her face as she announced,
"The new Keeper for Gryffindor is…"