Chapter 5: Quidditch Tryouts
"Welcome,
class. My name is…" he paused a moment,
writing his name on the board with a deeply scarred hand,
"Professor…Moody… There. It's not a hard name to spell or say, so I
expect you to use it when addressing me, rather than my seemingly famous moniker."
The
whole class was silent, just staring at the many scars that etched his face,
his grizzled mane of gray hair, or the large blue eye in constant movement that
had given him the nickname 'Mad-eye'.
"Well,
I see a few of you remember my, er, likeness from two years ago. I assure you, I don't truly act like
that. Most of the time." His normal eye fell on Harry, "Don't look so
pale, Mr. Potter. I promise I won't try
to kill you."
A
few people laughed weakly.
"So,
you're all here to learn about using magic in the home, I assume. Or to get girls." He smiled and though it caused many of his scars to look deeper,
there was something reassuring about it.
"This,
unlike some of your other classes, is a course that you will use almost every
day of your adult life. Some witches
and wizards have had to resort to common muggle methods because they didn't
learn these simple spells. Not a good
idea, considering most have little knowledge of the workings of an oven. Believe me, taking this class is a lot
better than making your house a raging inferno."
Most
of the class gave a little laugh this time. By the end of the lesson, nearly all of the class was comfortable around
Moody and memories of two years ago gradually began to fade.
"That
wasn't too bad," Harry commented as they left the classroom and headed for
Gryffindor tower.
"Yeah,
it might actually be fun," Hermione smiled, "I must say, though, it was kind of
weird to see Moody without him roaring 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!'"
"I
wonder how different he is from the other Moody," said Ron, putting on a dreamy
sort of smile, "I wouldn't mind seeing Malfoy the amazing bouncing ferret
again."
"I'm
actually starting to wonder if we'll ever see
Malfoy again."
"With
double Potions tomorrow," Harry said glumly, "we'll probably see too much of
him."
But
to the trio's great surprise, Draco wasn't there at the beginning of
Potions. Despite his constant feud with
him, Harry was actually getting worried. He kept expecting Draco to walk in late, but to no avail.
"Individual
potions today," Snape said in his usual sour mood, "We'll see what you remember
from last year."
Harry
quickly got to work, his memory surprisingly fresh. He had just removed the cauldron from the fire, preparing it for
the vial, when he heard a small plop.
"Wha…?"
he said faintly, peering into the liquid contents of the cauldron.
Big
mistake. With a loud POOF! the cauldron
spewed an enormous amount of black smoke into Harry's face. He stood up sharply, coughing. His bangs had been blown back and were
standing straight up from his face, which now looked extremely dirty, and he
couldn't see because of all the soot that had layered on his glasses.
"Potter!"
Snape yelled, storming over to him, "What did you do?!"
"Nothing,
Professor," he managed to splutter, cleaning his glasses on his robes, "I heard
a small splash and…"
Snape
stuck a spoon in the potion, and brought out a small circular object that Harry
recognized as a wet-lighting smoke bomb from Zonko's Joke Shop.
"Your
own practical joke backfire on you, Potter?"
"No,
sir, I-"
"Ten
points from Gryffindor for the attempt."
"But,
Professor-!"
"Be
quiet while you're ahead, Potter. It
should have been more, but your display was most entertaining."
All
the Slytherins chuckled to themselves, along with most of the Gryffindors. Harry could see Ron and Hermione were trying
hard not to laugh.
"Can
I at least wash-"
"No,
you may not. Wash up on your own time."
Harry
went back to his potion, a little angry but more amused. He had to admit, it wasn't too bad of a
joke. Who had pulled it was the only
thing he wanted to know. He glanced
around, hoping to see someone who could have done it, but no one stood out.
He
sighed, pulling out a vial. Suddenly,
from behind him, he heard a quiet, mocking laugh; a very familiar laugh. He spun around quickly. Paravati was the only one he saw. She waved at him gleefully, and he quickly
turned back to his potion.
Class
finished without any more interruptions and Harry told Ron and Hermione to head
off to lunch without him. He had to
find a sink.
"You
look like a raccoon, Potter," a voice whispered behind him.
Harry
turned quickly around, but no one was there. He waited a moment, very confused, then headed off for the
bathroom. He may have imagined it, but
as he left, he thought he heard someone laughing.
****
Weeks
passed uneventfully, much to Harry's relief. Quidditch try-outs for Gryffindor were going to be held that night. Harry was hoping Ron would be good enough to
play, because he didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. It was all he thought of while eating
breakfast.
"I'm
gonna head back to the dormitory," Harry told Ron and Hermione as he got up
from the Gryffindor table, "I need to grab a few things."
He
had walked no more than fifteen steps when he was intercepted by Paravati
Patil.
"Hello,
Harry," she said in a voice that oozed with false coyness.
"Er,
hey, Paravati."
"I
simply love your new haircut," Paravati
cooed.
"Uh…I
didn't get a new haircut."
"Really? No matter. So, we're taking 'Magic in the Home' together. What do you think of the class?"
"Pretty
good…I guess."
Harry
was trying to edge his way around her, but Paravati knew only too well how to
prevent a boy from leaving.
"I
can't believe that that man is teaching it. He really ought not be allowed, don't you think?"
"Well,
I-"
"Harry!"
Azar called, rushing over to them.
She
stopped a moment, catching her breath, then went on. "I'm so glad I found you! You gotta come quick! It's
important!"
"What's
important?" he asked, furrowing his brows.
Harry
saw Azar ever so slightly roll her eyes. "Uh…I'm not sure. But, uh…that
person needs to see you right away!"
"Oh… Oh! That
person. Well, I really need to go,
Paravati. Been a pleasure talking to
you."
Azar
snatched his hand and they both ran out of the Great Hall, leaving an extremely
wide-eyed and slack-jawed Paravati. When they got into the Entrance Hall, they looked at each other and
burst out laughing.
"
'That person needs to see you'?" Harry chuckled, "Boy, you are creative,
Azar."
"Ah,
what can I say? It's a gift," she
smiled back, "Besides, I needed to do something to get you out of her
clutches. You looked about as happy as
a mouse cornered by a sleeping cat."
"Er…interesting analogy."
"A
bit…annoying, isn't she?"
"What? No, of course not. One of my most adorable fans," Harry said, putting on his best
Lockhart accent.
"Oh
yes. Well, I've got to go to my
dormitory. See you in Defense, Harry."
"'Bye,
Azar."
Grinning,
Harry walked to the Gryffindor tower, the knot that had been writhing in his
stomach all day having disappeared.
"Okay,
quiet down!" Harry called over the small crowd of quidditch team hopefuls,
"Now, everyone has a number, right?"
The
dozens of heads bobbed in agreement.
"Okay,
good. Now this is how we're going to go
about this. We'll call three chasers
and two beaters up at a time. Chasers,
all you have to do is try and score on our keeper, Jamison Knight. Beaters, see those targets?"
Harry
gestured at a seven bull's-eyes suspended in midair around the field.
"Those
represent the opposing team. Not only
must you protect your three chasers, but you must try to hit one of the targets
in doing so. Everyone understand?"
Again,
the heads bobbed.
"Okay. Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet will be
judging you from the ground. Jamison
will judge from his position as keeper and I'll be the aerial judge. Right. Okay, the first team is chasers, numbers 1, 4, and 7; beaters, numbers 2
and 3. Mount your brooms. We're off on my whistle."
Harry
gave Ron, wearing the number seven, a quick thumbs-up and then they were
off. Ron wasn't that bad, but Harry
knew he'd have to be better than that to beat the competition.
The
try-outs went by pretty slow, but soon enough they were on the last team.
"Okay,"
Harry said, glad it was almost over, "last team. Chasers, numbers 21, 23, and 24; beaters, numbers 22 and 25."
Harry
didn't know the three chasers, but Neville was one of the beaters, along
with…Hermione?! Harry gave her an
astonished look, but she simply grinned back. Shaking his head, Harry blew the whistle.
Neville's
attempt was a bit of a joke, but Hermione more than made up for his
inability. Harry was astounded by her
accuracy, and not a single player was hit with a bludger. Apparently he wasn't the only one who
noticed, because nearly all of the other players clapped for her when she
finally dismounted her broom.
"Where
did you learn to fly like that?" Harry asked her before heading for the judges'
table.
"I
got some…personal training," she said, blushing with pleasure.
Harry
wanted to ask her more, but Katie was calling him over. The judges discussed quietly while all those
that tried-out talked nervously amongst themselves. It wasn't long before they had their decision.
"Attention,
everyone!" Harry called, causing
instant silence, "I'd first like to thank you all for trying out. You all did wonderfully, but sadly we only
have three spaces to fill. I hope there
won't be any bad feelings and that all of you will try-out again next year."
"Hey,
Harry!" someone called out, "We'd like to know before the season starts!"
A
small laugh went through the crowd and Harry smiled. "Well, okay then. Our new
beaters are Hermione Granger and Tyron Thatcher!"
A
cheer came up from the crowd as the two stepped forward. Hermione blushed happily and Tyron, a fourth
year, was ecstatic.
"And
our new chaser," Harry went on, "is…Bella Arroz!"
The
fifth year girl stepped forward to the Gryffindors joyous shouts, her dark
brown eyes shining. Harry glanced at
Ron, who looked very putout.
"Okay,
you three," Harry said, a little glumly, "practices start on Monday the week
after next. Be there at seven. Team dismissed!"
Harry,
Ron, and Hermione were the last to leave the field.
"I'm
sorry, Ron. There was only one chaser
space to fill and…Bella was just the best," Harry said, feeling uncomfortable,
"But you'll definitely be on the team next year. Hey, why don't you be a reserve? You never know when we'll need you, and you could come to practices."
"Yeah,
that sounds great," Ron said, though his smile was forced.
They
walked on a little longer before Harry turned to Hermione. "What did you mean by 'personal training',
Hermione? Don't tell me you visited Krum
over the summer!"
"What? No!" Hermione laughed, "I spent much of the
summer at Ron's house, actually. I
never really had a chance at flying over the summer before, so that was fun. Then one day I was trying to show Ron, Fred,
and George how to play cricket. My
family loves cricket. At one family
reunion, my mum even scored a century."
"A
what?" Ron asked.
"A
century. One hundred runs,
remember? You should have seen those
three trying to play, Harry. I almost
couldn't bowl I was laughing so hard. Well, when I had batted a couple scores, Fred and George wanted to see
me do it on a broom. So we flew around
a bit, and one would throw the ball at me and I'd bat it. Apparently they were impressed."
"And
with good reason," Ron grinned, "She didn't let a single ball hit the ground."
Hermione
smiled with pleasure. "Well, after
that, Fred and George kind of took me under their wings and showed me the finer
points of being a beater. They said I
was a natural for it."
"Well,
you sure seem like it," Harry said.
They
hadn't even reached the double doors when Hedwig landed on Harry's
shoulder. On her foot was tied a note
and long, thin package. Harry quickly
took it off, stroking Hedwig's neck.
"It's
from Sirius!"
Ron
and Hermione looked over Harry's shoulders and read:
Harry-
How's
my favorite godson? I hope Hogwarts is
as fun as ever and you're enjoying your second year as Prefect. I never congratulated you on that, so I've
enclosed a little something for you. It
could come in handy. Enjoy! Oh, and you might be seeing a bit more of
me. I won't say more.
-Sirius
P.S. How's
Professor Connerly doing?
"Huh?"
Hermione looked puzzled, "Why does he want to know how Professor Connerly is
doing?"
"Well,
he is human, Hermione," Ron
grinned, "Open the package, Harry."
Harry
quickly ripped off the paper. Inside
was a navy blue velvet box, like one that would hold an expensive
bracelet. He opened that up with a
snap.
"A
quill and ink well?"
"Oh,
I have one of those!" Hermione said eagerly, pointing at the paper on the box
lid.
It
read:
The Perfect Prefect's Quill
Specially designed for the over-achiever, the Perfect Prefect's Quill
is handy for your prefect duties. Simply fill your Quill with the Special Prefect Ink provided and put the
Quill in your school bag, along with some paper. If ever you see a school rule broken, the Quill will
automatically write down the name of the person who did the infraction along
with the appropriate amount of points to take from his or her house. The Perfect Prefect's Quill remembers all,
so you won't have to!
Harry
and Ron looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"Write
him back!" Ron laughed, "Say 'thank you so much for the wonderful gift. I'm sure I'll use it wisely.'"
"What's
so funny?" Hermione huffed, "It's a very handy quill."
"Oh,
of course," Ron said, "Especially for an
'over-achiever' like Harry."
They
had just reached the portrait of the Fat Lady when it burst open and out
tumbled Neville. He spotted the trio
and went pale.
"Ah,
oh…er, uh…um… Hi, guys!"
"Hello,
Neville," Hermione said, giving him a quizzical look, "Where are you going this
late?"
"Oh…ah,
er…the library."
"The
library?"
"Er…yeah. There's a…book that I-I need to get. Well, bye then."
Before
they could say anything, he rushed off down the hall.
"I
have a feeling he's hiding something," Hermione said as they climbed into the
common room.
"No,
really? I would have never thought."
"Oh,
come off it, Ron."
They
grabbed a couple of seats around the fire, talking late into the night. Hermione headed off to bed, soon followed by
Ron.
"Coming,
Harry?"
"No,
I think I'm going to wait for Neville. I want to find out what's going on."
"Good
night, then."
"'Night,
Ron."
Harry
stood up, looking around. He was the
only one in the common room, except for Dean's little sister who had fallen
asleep on a long couch. He paced the
room a bit but soon sat down on the couch. He might as well be comfortable while waiting for Neville. After all, how long could Neville possibly be?
Harry
felt himself coming slowly out of sleep. For some reason, he heard giggles from all around. Groggily, he opened his eyes to find a group
of Gryffindors grinning down at him. Confused, he moved to stand up, but found something weighing him down. He looked down and saw a head of black hair
on his chest.
"Ahhh!"
he yelled, giving a large jump.
"Ahhh!"
Sarah Thomas screamed, sitting up abruptly.
The two looked at each other with wide eyes and
exchanged quite a number of screams. The Gryffindors around them were literally rolling with laughter.
"What
are you doing here?! You weren't here
when I fell asleep!" Sarah cried.
"I
fell asleep on the couch! What were you
doing sleeping on me?!"
"I
move around in my sleep!"
"I
think you've traumatized my poor little sister, Harry," Dean said, wiping tears
from his eyes.
"Anyone
seen Neville?" Harry asked, standing up.
"He's
asleep in our dormitory. Why?"
"I'm
finding out once and for all what this is all about!"
Harry
stomped up the staircase, followed by an extremely confused Dean.
~*~*~
A/N: And
that's the end of that chapter…
I
hope you guys aren't too angry with my teacher. I hadn't even thought of Snape when quite a few of you suggested
him. I mulled it over in my mind a
while, then decided Snape would be too busy with teaching Potions and spying. So I
went with my gut. Well, actually, not
with my gut but my second thought. I
first wanted Krum to be the teacher, but the more I thought of Moody, the more
I liked it. Anyways…
I
didn't put Ron on the quidditch team because everyone else does that. I know I may get a few flames for that…
I won't do personal 'thank you's this time (though I must say Low Zhen Lin's cracked me up. ^_^) Just thank you all for your reviews!
And I definitely wouldn't mind more reviews… ::hint, hint::
Be excellent to each other.
-Ady
