Chapter 8
The next class was Divination with Professor Trelawney. Professor Trelawney was a thin woman with large glasses that made her eyes look huge. She was wrapped in a gauzy shawl and the many bracelets on her arms tinkled when she moved. Her favorite pastime was predicting Harry's death.
"Hello, class," she said in her airy voice. Dean rolled his eyes. She turned to look at Cassandra. "Ah, yes, our new student," she remarked. "My dear you mustn't be disappointed if you have a harder time than the other students. Unlike them, you've not had the benefit of two years of my instruction." Cassandra drew herself up on her little chintz pouf.
"Your concern is quite unnecessary. I'm sure I'll do just fine," Cassandra replied icily. Lavender and Parvati gasped. Harry and Ron tried to keep straight faces. Professor Trelawney merely put her nose in the air and returned to her armchair by the fire.
"We will begin this year with further studies on crystal balls. You should remember them from third year. I thought we could use a quick refresher course," she said with a note of sharpness to her voice. Ron gasped.
"Oh my goodness! Did you hear that? She actually thought!" he whispered. Cassandra laughed softly behind her hand. Harry grinned.
"I will start by having each of you gaze into the crystal ball by turn. Please come up as I call your name. " She looked at her list. "Cassandra," Professor Trelawney called. Cassandra, who had been busy looking thoroughly bored, gave a start at the sound of her name. She walked slowly up to Professor Trelawney's armchair and took the seat across from her.
"Gaze into the crystal ball." Harry watched as Cassandra looked through the glass as if not really seeing it. "You're not relaxed enough," the professor said.
"I'm plenty relaxed," Cassandra replied sharply, not moving her eyes of the ball. Professor Trelawney's lips compressed in a thin line, but she calmed herself quickly.
"Tell me what you see, dear," she instructed. Cassandra furrowed her brow.
"I see you," she said.
"Go on."
"I see you- and Harry! He's there too." Harry leaned forward on his pouf.
"Yes?"
"You're predicting his death, but oddly enough, Harry seems unimpressed," Cassandra stated blankly. Lavender and Parvati gasped in horror. Ron, Seamus, and Harry snickered. "It's not Harry who's in danger this year." The snickering stopped instantly.
"Who is?" Professor Trelawney asked, looking concerned. Cassandra smiled and shrugged.
"Time likes its little surprises, Professor. I can see no more," she replied, sitting back in her chair. Seamus grinned broadly.
Harry, however, was not amused. "What was that?" he demanded as soon as they left the classroom. Cassandra shrugged and started to leave. Harry grabbed her wrist roughly. "You will not leave until I get an answer," he said, his voice low and furious. The anger melted from Cassandra's face to be replaced with a look of mischief.
"If you wanted to get your hands on me that badly, Harry, you should have just asked. I'm sure we could have worked something out," she said in a suggestive voice. Harry let go off her wrist as if it was burning him. She rubbed her wrist. "That's better," she said.
"That wasn't funny back there!" Harry told her.
"I only told her what I saw and what I sensed, nothing more."
"Who is it that's in danger?"
"Didn't you hear me? I said that I don't know!" she hissed. "Now are you done or would you like to cross-examine me some more?"
"Go," Harry said. He frowned as she disappeared down the hallway. He was convinced there was something she wasn't telling him.
Cassandra didn't speak to Harry for the rest of the day. Harry didn't know if it was because she was mad at him or if it was because she was so busy trying not to get lost. Either way, he thought it best to apologize. It wasn't completely her fault anyway. Besides, Hermione always said Divination was a very imprecise branch of magic.
Cassandra left the dinner great hall in the middle of dinner. Harry followed her. He caught up with her in the Gryffindor common room. She appeared to be doing her homework. Harry cleared his throat. "Hello, Harry," she replied, not looking up.
"How did you know it was me?" he asked. She looked up and grinned.
"I could smell you," she said. Harry was confused. He had taken a shower recently and-she laughed at him. "Not in a bad way," she said quickly. "You have a distinctive scent."
"Oh," he said. "I doubt Sirius could have done much better." To Harry's relief she laughed again and gestured for him to sit down. He took a seat next to her. She looked deep in thought as she took out her wand and started tracing figure-eights across the surface of the table.
"Stop," he requested softly, putting his hand over hers.
"Why did you follow me?" she asked.
"I wanted to apologize for being so upset after class," he replied. She nodded. "I guess I'm kind of sensitive to dying since living seems to suit me so well."
"A lot of people don't seem to agree with you on that."
"True, but they haven't killed me yet, have they? Peeves came very close, though." She nodded again. Harry had the strangest feeling he was being ignored. "Anyway," he continued, feeling less confidant, "I shouldn't have gotten all wound up. It wasn't your fault."
"It's understandable. I'm sorry."
"For what?" he asked.
"That whole comment about wanting to put your hands on me," she sighed.
"Oh," Harry said, blushing. She smiled wryly at him.
"Yeah. It was wrong of me to say something like that when you were a perfect gentleman all summer. I mean, if you were going to you would have made a move by now, right?"
"Right," he replied, feeling totally stupid. She reached out and smoothed his hair.
"So soft," she sighed. "Like goose down." She dropped her hand and sighed again. " 'Night, Harry."
" 'Night," he replied, watching her disappear up the steps to the girls' dormitory.
Harry was glad when Quidditch practice started again. Cassandra and Malfoy were getting very chummy and Harry wanted something to take his mind off them. He was too exhausted to worry after a tough practice session and he relished the chance to show up Malfoy on a broomstick. With Oliver Wood gone, the Gryffindor team held tryouts for the position of keeper. They also elected a new captain: Harry.
Harry was thrilled, of course. Then he realized that this meant that he had to come up with plays, schedule practices, hold tryouts, think of inspiring pep talks, and manage to get his homework done all at the same time. He couldn't understand how Wood had done it all. By the end of the fourth day of tryouts, Harry was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. And he still had homework to do. Unfortunately he could barely think or keep a quill in his hands. He squinted at his constellation map as if hoping to discover a pattern he had missed. Someone slipped a mug of hot chocolate in his free hand and began to rub his shoulders. He closed his eyes briefly. "How's our captain doing?" Cassandra asked softly. Harry titled his head back to look at her.
"Terrible. I don't know how I'm going to do all of this," he moaned.
"Maybe you need a co-captain," she suggested.
"For what?"
"To handle all the small details while you concentrate on the big picture."
"Which is?"
"Winning the Quidditch Cup, of course!" she exclaimed, still massaging his shoulders.
"Mmm. Of course," Harry replied, eyes closed. "Who did you have in mind?"
"How about Hermione? Or Ron?"
"Ron is trying out for keeper. He can't handle both. Hermione isn't a big sports fan. Besides, it would cut into her studying time."
"Who did you have in mind?" she asked, slightly annoyed that he was shooting holes in her idea.
"You," he said. She looked stunned for a moment.
"Yeah," she said. "Alright, I'll do it." Harry smiled feebly.
" Meet me here at six thirty tomorrow morning," he instructed.
"Are you going to bed?" she asked. Harry shook his head.
"I still have homework to do," he said. She leaned over and closed his books one by one.
"Tomorrow's Saturday. We have no class. Go to bed."
"I really need-"
"To sleep. I completely agree. Off to bed."
"Cassandra, please-"
"Go!" she said waving imperiously at the stairs to the boys' dormitory.
"Cassa-"
"GO! If you don't march up those stairs right now, I'll put you to bed, even if it means undressing you myself," she said staunchly.
"I can't. I have to get this finished," he insisted.
"That's it! Locomoto mortis!" she shouted. Harry felt his legs spring together and swayed before crashing to the ground.
"You put the leg locker curse on me!"
"I had to. You wouldn't listen to reason, "she replied, scooping him up in her arms.
"You're a fine one to talk about reason!" Harry snapped.
"Hush," she said, mounting the stairs. "You'll wake everyone up."
She opened the door to his dorm. Everyone else was sound asleep. She sat him on his bed and pulled his practice robes off over his head. She found his pajamas under his pillow and put the top on him, even buttoning the buttons. Harry felt completely ridiculous. She looked at the pajama bottoms and then looked at Harry. To Harry's relief she performed the counterspell for the leglocker curse and held them out to him. He took them and dressed quickly while her back was turned. Harry offered no further resistance as she took off his glasses, placed them on the night table and tucked him in. "Would you like me to read you a story?" she asked jokingly.
"No, I'm fine thanks," he whispered. Her smile faded and was replaced by a strange look. She kissed him quickly on the forehead.
"Sleep tight, Harry."
"Good night, Cassandra," he called softly, grateful that she couldn't see him blush in the dark.
Harry woke up the next morning and looked at the little clock by his bed. It was seven o' clock. Harry jumped out of bed and half-walked, half-tumbled down the stairs trying to get dressed on his way to the common room. He arrived flushed and panting. Cassandra smiled. "It looks like you went to practice without me," she said.
"Sorry- I'm -late!" Harry panted.
" No problem. I'm ready when you are," she replied. Harry's eyes flickered over Cassandra quickly. She was dressed in jeans and a sweatjacket. She had a regular notebook her hand and a normal pen behind her ear. Harry grinned. "What?" she asked.
"You look so out of place here in Muggle clothes," he replied. She looked down at herself and shrugged. Harry shook his head.
"Okay, let's start with tryouts," she said.
"What about them?"
"Do you have a list of the names of the finalists?"
"What?"
"Come on, Harry! You've gotta have a list of the best people! Or at least a list of the ones who definitely aren't going to be keeper."
"Well, Seamus was pretty good. Ron was too," Harry replied. Cassandra wrote this down in her notebook.
"Any one else?"
"There was a fourth year named Davis who was interested in being a reserve chaser."
"Okay."
"And there where two third years who wanted to be reserve beaters- something about the Weasley twins being their idols," Harry said.
"Aren't they the ones who opened that joke shop on Diagon Alley? "Cassandra inquired.
"That would be them."
"Oh, goodness. I don't think Hogwarts can handle another pair like the Weasley twins," she sighed. Harry laughed.
"That's all I can remember for now."
"It'll do," she said. "When do tryouts begin?"
"Er- in about a half an hour," he replied. She closed her notebook and put the pen back behind her ear.
"Let's go shall we?"
"Um-sure" Harry had a feeling that he had found himself a very efficient co-captain.
Harry and Cassandra arrived at the Quidditch field ten minutes early. Nonetheless, there was already a small crowd of people chatting on the field. They stopped talking and spread apart on the field when Harry approached. Members of last year's team were there as well. Harry divided them into four groups, mixing the experienced team members and the people trying out. He had them play several games against each other. As they played, he whispered names to Cassandra as she wrote them down.
The teams played one another, the winning teams going against each other like a tournament. Good players from both teams were picked out, regrouped, and sent in to play again. Soon, Harry had his team picked out. Ron and Seamus remained. Davis, a tall, dark-haired boy was there. Amalia Green and Simon Banks made the team. Will and John Bradford, the two third years whom Harry had mentioned, survived the cut, their identical faces wearing identical grins. There was also a small third year by the name of Zoë. She had dark red hair and green eyes like Harry's. In a way she reminded him of his mother. Harry passed around a list with the team positions on it.
Player Reserve
Seeker Harry Potter Zoë Magi
Chaser Angelina Johnson Amalia Green
Chaser Katie Bell Simon Banks
Chaser Alicia Spinnet Davis Summers
Beater Fred Weasley Will Bradford
Beater George Weasley John Bradford
Keeper ? ?
"What?" exclaimed Ron and Seamus simultaneously when they saw the last entry. Harry grinned sheepishly.
"Well, you're both very good and right now we're undecided. We'll figure it out tomorrow," he said.
"Like hell we will!" Ron said.
"He's right. Let's decide it now!" Seamus agreed. Harry could tell be the look on their faces that they would not leave until this was settled.
"Fine," he said tiredly.
Seamus took to the air, weaving about the goal posts. All six chasers took turns passing the ball with lightening speed and making attempts at the goal. They got a total of one hundred attempts. Cassandra took note on how many Seamus let past. Ron did the same. Then Seamus and then Ron again. Finally Harry called for them to return to the ground. He walked over to where Cassandra was totaling the scores. They conversed briefly and Harry posted the amended list.
Player Reserve
Seeker Harry Potter Zoë Magi
Chaser Angelina Johnson Amalia Green
Chaser Katie Bell Simon Banks
Chaser Alicia Spinnet Davis Summers
Beater Fred Weasley Will Bradford
Beater George Weasley John Bradford
Keeper Seamus Finnigan Ron Weasley
"What?" Ron shouted, looking from the paper, to Seamus, who was grinning nervously, to Harry, who began slowly backing away.
"It was only by one goal," Harry said, ducking behind Cassandra. He figured that he was safe there since Ron melted around pretty girls and certainly wouldn't attack one.
"You're both fantastic," Cassandra insisted. "That's why this decision was so difficult." Ron cast her a glare that implied since she was a Muggle up until a few weeks ago and didn't know anything about Quidditch, she should keep her mouth shut and opened his mouth to most likely tell her just that when Seamus interfered.
"We can alternate being keeper. You can play in the first game," he offered quickly. Harry looked at Ron and at George who was mouthing "Don't be a moron! Go for it!"
Ron sighed and ran his hand through his hair.
"Thanks," he muttered to Seamus before walking off the field.
"I think that went very well," ventured Fred.
"Better than I thought it would," replied Harry, moving out from behind Cassandra.
The next class was Divination with Professor Trelawney. Professor Trelawney was a thin woman with large glasses that made her eyes look huge. She was wrapped in a gauzy shawl and the many bracelets on her arms tinkled when she moved. Her favorite pastime was predicting Harry's death.
"Hello, class," she said in her airy voice. Dean rolled his eyes. She turned to look at Cassandra. "Ah, yes, our new student," she remarked. "My dear you mustn't be disappointed if you have a harder time than the other students. Unlike them, you've not had the benefit of two years of my instruction." Cassandra drew herself up on her little chintz pouf.
"Your concern is quite unnecessary. I'm sure I'll do just fine," Cassandra replied icily. Lavender and Parvati gasped. Harry and Ron tried to keep straight faces. Professor Trelawney merely put her nose in the air and returned to her armchair by the fire.
"We will begin this year with further studies on crystal balls. You should remember them from third year. I thought we could use a quick refresher course," she said with a note of sharpness to her voice. Ron gasped.
"Oh my goodness! Did you hear that? She actually thought!" he whispered. Cassandra laughed softly behind her hand. Harry grinned.
"I will start by having each of you gaze into the crystal ball by turn. Please come up as I call your name. " She looked at her list. "Cassandra," Professor Trelawney called. Cassandra, who had been busy looking thoroughly bored, gave a start at the sound of her name. She walked slowly up to Professor Trelawney's armchair and took the seat across from her.
"Gaze into the crystal ball." Harry watched as Cassandra looked through the glass as if not really seeing it. "You're not relaxed enough," the professor said.
"I'm plenty relaxed," Cassandra replied sharply, not moving her eyes of the ball. Professor Trelawney's lips compressed in a thin line, but she calmed herself quickly.
"Tell me what you see, dear," she instructed. Cassandra furrowed her brow.
"I see you," she said.
"Go on."
"I see you- and Harry! He's there too." Harry leaned forward on his pouf.
"Yes?"
"You're predicting his death, but oddly enough, Harry seems unimpressed," Cassandra stated blankly. Lavender and Parvati gasped in horror. Ron, Seamus, and Harry snickered. "It's not Harry who's in danger this year." The snickering stopped instantly.
"Who is?" Professor Trelawney asked, looking concerned. Cassandra smiled and shrugged.
"Time likes its little surprises, Professor. I can see no more," she replied, sitting back in her chair. Seamus grinned broadly.
Harry, however, was not amused. "What was that?" he demanded as soon as they left the classroom. Cassandra shrugged and started to leave. Harry grabbed her wrist roughly. "You will not leave until I get an answer," he said, his voice low and furious. The anger melted from Cassandra's face to be replaced with a look of mischief.
"If you wanted to get your hands on me that badly, Harry, you should have just asked. I'm sure we could have worked something out," she said in a suggestive voice. Harry let go off her wrist as if it was burning him. She rubbed her wrist. "That's better," she said.
"That wasn't funny back there!" Harry told her.
"I only told her what I saw and what I sensed, nothing more."
"Who is it that's in danger?"
"Didn't you hear me? I said that I don't know!" she hissed. "Now are you done or would you like to cross-examine me some more?"
"Go," Harry said. He frowned as she disappeared down the hallway. He was convinced there was something she wasn't telling him.
Cassandra didn't speak to Harry for the rest of the day. Harry didn't know if it was because she was mad at him or if it was because she was so busy trying not to get lost. Either way, he thought it best to apologize. It wasn't completely her fault anyway. Besides, Hermione always said Divination was a very imprecise branch of magic.
Cassandra left the dinner great hall in the middle of dinner. Harry followed her. He caught up with her in the Gryffindor common room. She appeared to be doing her homework. Harry cleared his throat. "Hello, Harry," she replied, not looking up.
"How did you know it was me?" he asked. She looked up and grinned.
"I could smell you," she said. Harry was confused. He had taken a shower recently and-she laughed at him. "Not in a bad way," she said quickly. "You have a distinctive scent."
"Oh," he said. "I doubt Sirius could have done much better." To Harry's relief she laughed again and gestured for him to sit down. He took a seat next to her. She looked deep in thought as she took out her wand and started tracing figure-eights across the surface of the table.
"Stop," he requested softly, putting his hand over hers.
"Why did you follow me?" she asked.
"I wanted to apologize for being so upset after class," he replied. She nodded. "I guess I'm kind of sensitive to dying since living seems to suit me so well."
"A lot of people don't seem to agree with you on that."
"True, but they haven't killed me yet, have they? Peeves came very close, though." She nodded again. Harry had the strangest feeling he was being ignored. "Anyway," he continued, feeling less confidant, "I shouldn't have gotten all wound up. It wasn't your fault."
"It's understandable. I'm sorry."
"For what?" he asked.
"That whole comment about wanting to put your hands on me," she sighed.
"Oh," Harry said, blushing. She smiled wryly at him.
"Yeah. It was wrong of me to say something like that when you were a perfect gentleman all summer. I mean, if you were going to you would have made a move by now, right?"
"Right," he replied, feeling totally stupid. She reached out and smoothed his hair.
"So soft," she sighed. "Like goose down." She dropped her hand and sighed again. " 'Night, Harry."
" 'Night," he replied, watching her disappear up the steps to the girls' dormitory.
Harry was glad when Quidditch practice started again. Cassandra and Malfoy were getting very chummy and Harry wanted something to take his mind off them. He was too exhausted to worry after a tough practice session and he relished the chance to show up Malfoy on a broomstick. With Oliver Wood gone, the Gryffindor team held tryouts for the position of keeper. They also elected a new captain: Harry.
Harry was thrilled, of course. Then he realized that this meant that he had to come up with plays, schedule practices, hold tryouts, think of inspiring pep talks, and manage to get his homework done all at the same time. He couldn't understand how Wood had done it all. By the end of the fourth day of tryouts, Harry was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. And he still had homework to do. Unfortunately he could barely think or keep a quill in his hands. He squinted at his constellation map as if hoping to discover a pattern he had missed. Someone slipped a mug of hot chocolate in his free hand and began to rub his shoulders. He closed his eyes briefly. "How's our captain doing?" Cassandra asked softly. Harry titled his head back to look at her.
"Terrible. I don't know how I'm going to do all of this," he moaned.
"Maybe you need a co-captain," she suggested.
"For what?"
"To handle all the small details while you concentrate on the big picture."
"Which is?"
"Winning the Quidditch Cup, of course!" she exclaimed, still massaging his shoulders.
"Mmm. Of course," Harry replied, eyes closed. "Who did you have in mind?"
"How about Hermione? Or Ron?"
"Ron is trying out for keeper. He can't handle both. Hermione isn't a big sports fan. Besides, it would cut into her studying time."
"Who did you have in mind?" she asked, slightly annoyed that he was shooting holes in her idea.
"You," he said. She looked stunned for a moment.
"Yeah," she said. "Alright, I'll do it." Harry smiled feebly.
" Meet me here at six thirty tomorrow morning," he instructed.
"Are you going to bed?" she asked. Harry shook his head.
"I still have homework to do," he said. She leaned over and closed his books one by one.
"Tomorrow's Saturday. We have no class. Go to bed."
"I really need-"
"To sleep. I completely agree. Off to bed."
"Cassandra, please-"
"Go!" she said waving imperiously at the stairs to the boys' dormitory.
"Cassa-"
"GO! If you don't march up those stairs right now, I'll put you to bed, even if it means undressing you myself," she said staunchly.
"I can't. I have to get this finished," he insisted.
"That's it! Locomoto mortis!" she shouted. Harry felt his legs spring together and swayed before crashing to the ground.
"You put the leg locker curse on me!"
"I had to. You wouldn't listen to reason, "she replied, scooping him up in her arms.
"You're a fine one to talk about reason!" Harry snapped.
"Hush," she said, mounting the stairs. "You'll wake everyone up."
She opened the door to his dorm. Everyone else was sound asleep. She sat him on his bed and pulled his practice robes off over his head. She found his pajamas under his pillow and put the top on him, even buttoning the buttons. Harry felt completely ridiculous. She looked at the pajama bottoms and then looked at Harry. To Harry's relief she performed the counterspell for the leglocker curse and held them out to him. He took them and dressed quickly while her back was turned. Harry offered no further resistance as she took off his glasses, placed them on the night table and tucked him in. "Would you like me to read you a story?" she asked jokingly.
"No, I'm fine thanks," he whispered. Her smile faded and was replaced by a strange look. She kissed him quickly on the forehead.
"Sleep tight, Harry."
"Good night, Cassandra," he called softly, grateful that she couldn't see him blush in the dark.
Harry woke up the next morning and looked at the little clock by his bed. It was seven o' clock. Harry jumped out of bed and half-walked, half-tumbled down the stairs trying to get dressed on his way to the common room. He arrived flushed and panting. Cassandra smiled. "It looks like you went to practice without me," she said.
"Sorry- I'm -late!" Harry panted.
" No problem. I'm ready when you are," she replied. Harry's eyes flickered over Cassandra quickly. She was dressed in jeans and a sweatjacket. She had a regular notebook her hand and a normal pen behind her ear. Harry grinned. "What?" she asked.
"You look so out of place here in Muggle clothes," he replied. She looked down at herself and shrugged. Harry shook his head.
"Okay, let's start with tryouts," she said.
"What about them?"
"Do you have a list of the names of the finalists?"
"What?"
"Come on, Harry! You've gotta have a list of the best people! Or at least a list of the ones who definitely aren't going to be keeper."
"Well, Seamus was pretty good. Ron was too," Harry replied. Cassandra wrote this down in her notebook.
"Any one else?"
"There was a fourth year named Davis who was interested in being a reserve chaser."
"Okay."
"And there where two third years who wanted to be reserve beaters- something about the Weasley twins being their idols," Harry said.
"Aren't they the ones who opened that joke shop on Diagon Alley? "Cassandra inquired.
"That would be them."
"Oh, goodness. I don't think Hogwarts can handle another pair like the Weasley twins," she sighed. Harry laughed.
"That's all I can remember for now."
"It'll do," she said. "When do tryouts begin?"
"Er- in about a half an hour," he replied. She closed her notebook and put the pen back behind her ear.
"Let's go shall we?"
"Um-sure" Harry had a feeling that he had found himself a very efficient co-captain.
Harry and Cassandra arrived at the Quidditch field ten minutes early. Nonetheless, there was already a small crowd of people chatting on the field. They stopped talking and spread apart on the field when Harry approached. Members of last year's team were there as well. Harry divided them into four groups, mixing the experienced team members and the people trying out. He had them play several games against each other. As they played, he whispered names to Cassandra as she wrote them down.
The teams played one another, the winning teams going against each other like a tournament. Good players from both teams were picked out, regrouped, and sent in to play again. Soon, Harry had his team picked out. Ron and Seamus remained. Davis, a tall, dark-haired boy was there. Amalia Green and Simon Banks made the team. Will and John Bradford, the two third years whom Harry had mentioned, survived the cut, their identical faces wearing identical grins. There was also a small third year by the name of Zoë. She had dark red hair and green eyes like Harry's. In a way she reminded him of his mother. Harry passed around a list with the team positions on it.
Player Reserve
Seeker Harry Potter Zoë Magi
Chaser Angelina Johnson Amalia Green
Chaser Katie Bell Simon Banks
Chaser Alicia Spinnet Davis Summers
Beater Fred Weasley Will Bradford
Beater George Weasley John Bradford
Keeper ? ?
"What?" exclaimed Ron and Seamus simultaneously when they saw the last entry. Harry grinned sheepishly.
"Well, you're both very good and right now we're undecided. We'll figure it out tomorrow," he said.
"Like hell we will!" Ron said.
"He's right. Let's decide it now!" Seamus agreed. Harry could tell be the look on their faces that they would not leave until this was settled.
"Fine," he said tiredly.
Seamus took to the air, weaving about the goal posts. All six chasers took turns passing the ball with lightening speed and making attempts at the goal. They got a total of one hundred attempts. Cassandra took note on how many Seamus let past. Ron did the same. Then Seamus and then Ron again. Finally Harry called for them to return to the ground. He walked over to where Cassandra was totaling the scores. They conversed briefly and Harry posted the amended list.
Player Reserve
Seeker Harry Potter Zoë Magi
Chaser Angelina Johnson Amalia Green
Chaser Katie Bell Simon Banks
Chaser Alicia Spinnet Davis Summers
Beater Fred Weasley Will Bradford
Beater George Weasley John Bradford
Keeper Seamus Finnigan Ron Weasley
"What?" Ron shouted, looking from the paper, to Seamus, who was grinning nervously, to Harry, who began slowly backing away.
"It was only by one goal," Harry said, ducking behind Cassandra. He figured that he was safe there since Ron melted around pretty girls and certainly wouldn't attack one.
"You're both fantastic," Cassandra insisted. "That's why this decision was so difficult." Ron cast her a glare that implied since she was a Muggle up until a few weeks ago and didn't know anything about Quidditch, she should keep her mouth shut and opened his mouth to most likely tell her just that when Seamus interfered.
"We can alternate being keeper. You can play in the first game," he offered quickly. Harry looked at Ron and at George who was mouthing "Don't be a moron! Go for it!"
Ron sighed and ran his hand through his hair.
"Thanks," he muttered to Seamus before walking off the field.
"I think that went very well," ventured Fred.
"Better than I thought it would," replied Harry, moving out from behind Cassandra.