Ginny felt every eye in the stands on her. Fred and George and Ron stared at her with different degrees of disbelief etched on their faces. It would've been almost comical, if not for the fact that Ginny was absolutely terrified of making a fool of herself.
Fred and George recovered first. "Our little sister's finally developed a sense of humor," George joked, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye.
"I'm serious," Ginny frowned, anger welling up inside. Just like those miserable prats to think this is a joke!
"Ginny," Ron finally spoke up, "You can't be Chaser. Quidditch is a very dangerous sport. Chasers are always constantly fouled or hit, you could get hurt." He explained this to hear as if she was a very small child.
Enough was enough. "Ok, boys. That's fine." Ginny could just feel the anger steaming off of her. Damn them! "I'll just go sit down while the others who signed up tryout." Ginny held her hands over her eyes, shading them from the sun as she turned around, pretending to search for someone. "Funny," she said very sarcastically, "I don't see anyone else here." She glared at her brothers, her eyes shooting flames.
Angelina Johnson came to stand right next to her. "I think we should let her tryout," she told her teammates, placing an arm around Ginny's shoulders.
Alicia Spinnet went to Ginny's other side. "Me too."
Fred and George's jaws dropped. They dropped even further when another deeper voice resounded his support.
"I agree."
The only thing that kept Ginny on her feet was the arm around her shoulder from Angelina. Harry was looking at her, a cocky grin on his face as he tilted his head to the side as if he was sizing her up.
"Are you nutters?" Ron asked his friend.
"Well, she can fly," Harry defended, "We've played Quidditch often
enough in the small glen by your house to see that. She's even made some pretty good scores."
"Harry," Ron placed a hand on his shoulder. "Bewitching apples to fly around isn't the same as a real live bludger coming to hit you in the face. And you know we never could go too high above the trees, it's not the same!"
"I still say we give her a chance," Harry firmly repeated. "Angelina and Alicia both agree so that would make this a tie, wouldn't it? Three to three."
Madame Hooch finally made her presence known. "If the Gryffindor team does not get a new Chaser by the end of this day, I'm afraid you will be out of the running for the Quidditch Cup."
Ginny turned to her three pigheaded brothers. "So, what's it gonna be, boys?"
Ron, Fred and George quickly huddled in a small circle, whispering frantically. Ginny rolled her eyes, deciding she was through with this. At least she didn't have to make a fool of herself in front of Harry. She started to walk off the pitch, throwing her broomstick down on the ground. "Goodbye."
That snapped their red heads up. "Wait!" Ron called. "Ok, fine. We'll put you through the paces."
Ginny whirled around to face her family. All three of them scowled as if they had eaten a sea slug. "We're only doing this under extreme pressure, though," Fred added casting Madame Hooch a grimace.
"That was apparent," Ginny said under her breath.
"George, get the Quaffle. Angelina, Alicia, get up there with her," Fred turned to each of them, with the 'commander-of-the-ship' tone in his voice. "Ron, go be Keeper."
Ginny tried to bite the inside of her jaw to keep herself from grinning too much. She marched back to the team.
"Hey, Ginny." She turned to one handedly catch the object Harry threw at her. "You're gonna need this." She forgot she tossed her broomstick down in a fit of anger.
"Thanks, Harry." She smiled. He winked at her.
As Ginny waited for the others to get ready, she noticed that her broomstick
felt different. It was making some sort
of light humming noise. Great,
she thought. This is just what I need, this old damn Shooting Star to
go out on me right as I get the chance to prove myself. She turned it over in her hands, inspecting
it, looking for any sign that something was wrong with it.
It nearly slipped from her fingers.
On the handle, near the top was a series of numbers. Shooting Stars didn't have any numbers on them. Ginny's eyes slowly roamed down the handle, widening in amazement when they landed on the maker. Firebolt. Harry had accidentally thrown her his Firebolt. She turned around to see him standing with the others, talking. It wasn't an accident. Her old broomstick was still where it was, right on the grass. Harry barely let people touch his Firebolt, let alone fly it. He was obsessive about it, polishing it nearly every day, keeping it tightly locked up in his room when he wasn't using it. And he had just tossed it to her? She felt really, really, really sick. Now she also had to worry about making a complete and utter fool on herself, in front of Harry Potter, on his Firebolt. What did I do to deserve this? she asked the white fluffy clouds in the sky.
"Ready, Gin?" Angelina and Alicia came up to her.
"As ready as I'm gonna ever be," Ginny muttered.
"Let's go." And they pushed off.
Her nervousness was forgotten as she rose in the air, the Firebolt practically reading her mind. This was incredible. She'd never felt anything like it, the Firebolt almost made this easy, all she had to do was catch and throw the Quaffle to the other Chasers. The Firebolt almost flew itself. The goal posts were just head, Angelina tossed the Quaffle to her from overhead, attempting the Porskoff Ploy. Ginny had excellent timing, the Quaffle was caught deftly. Ron was circling the goal posts, she was in the scoring area…Ron attempts to block…YES! Goal! Cheers erupted from the crowd below. Spinning around, Ginny noticed Ron's face was screwed up in either a look of pleased surprise that his little sister managed to get one past him, or intense displeasure that his little sister managed to get one past him.
"Way to move, Ginny." Both Alicia and Angelina rode up beside her. For the rest of the evening, Ginny, Angelina and Alicia worked on their timing, passing, and trying out new plays. They were really impressed at her sense of timing. After scoring the fourth goal, Ron declared enough. They all flew down to Fred, George and Harry, who had been watching them. Fred and George wore identical expressions of incredulity and admiration. Harry just looked pleasantly smug.
"Well?" she asked, the nervousness coming to settle in her stomach with a vengeance.
Fred and George looked at each other. They turned to her. "Welcome to the team, little sister." Her ribs were almost crushed in the hugs that followed. These blockheads weren't so bad, at least not all the time, she smiled to herself. She managed to toss Harry his Firebolt behind George's back.
"Thank you," she mouthed to him.
Harry grinned.