Chapter 12: Quidditch Tryouts
"Are you crazy?" cried Harry, quite a bit louder than he wanted to.
"Shh! Keep your voice down," scolded Amy. "Yeah, I know it sounds stupid but I-"
"If you're so intent on getting the key, why not go yourselves?"
"Because he'll only give it to you."
"Than go and bring him to me! Listen, I have enough on my shoulders right now with the prophecy and things-"
"Harry," Annette said seriously. "When I saw you on the train, I knew there was something special about you. You're brave and can take care of yourself. Please, Harry."
"Why not have Lupin or Tonks or Moody or someone from the order do it?"
"Well, they're helping get us there and Moody's going to work on a distraction, but…" She trailed off.
"You want me to go into the most heavily guarded prison in existence, get some key, go into this silver Drakhen and do something, yet you have no idea what it is? And all alone?"
"No," said Annette quietly. "Not alone. You'll have us. You'll have me."
Annette reached out and touched his hand. Harry stopped for a second. The world seemed to stop with him. By the faint lights of the castle above, Harry could see her eyes, filled with intoxicating liquor, which seemed to be washing over him, drowning him. Her skin felt soft like warm Spanish chocolate. For a second, everything left his mind. Sirius, the prophecy, Voldemort, Dumbledore, the Drakhen, the key, Azkaban… it all seemed to fade away; there was only Annette, only the warmth, only the love. And, suddenly, it all came flying back at him, a bucket of ice water dumped across his feelings.
"I…I…I don't know…I can't…"
"You can."
Annette's voice was soft, but he felt his insides soar, he could, he really could, he could do anything.
"I…I'll try," stammered Harry.
Annette retracted her hand. He still felt warmth where his hand once was, he wanted so much to simply hug her then, hold her until it was all over.
"Thank you," said Amy, smiling. "Remember that mirror Sirius gave you last year? Well, we have the other half. If you ever need to talk to us, we'll be there."
Harry nodded. It was difficult to concentrate, he felt dazed and confused.
"We have eight months before Dumbledore dies which gives us until right before your end-of-term. Tonks is arranging some form of transportation, but we don't even exactly know where it is. It's supposed to be on an island or something."
"Right…well…"
Harry was at a loss for words. Everything was coming at him far too quickly. He looked the three of them up and down and heard Sarah calling Hermione a frog for some strange reason. Inadvertently, all four of them looked over for a second and then looked back at each other, trying to keep straight faces. It seemed to bring Harry back to his senses.
"Okay, well, thanks," said Harry dumbly.
Zack and Amy shook his hand which seemed a little bit too formal for the occasion. The Annette gave him a big hug. The feeling of warmth returned nearly knocking Harry off his feet. Harry didn't remember exactly what happened next, but he found himself in his bed, wondering vaguely why he was feeling this way, and entirely glad he was.
The next two weeks passed, for Harry, in a flurry of activity. Between hard Quidditch training sessions with students from all four houses, a mounting workload from all his teachers and practicing with the other members of Drakeweed, Harry scarcely had time to worry about the trip to Azkaban. He still hadn't told Ron or Hermione about it, because doing so would reveal the truth about the prophecy and the end of last year, and Harry wasn't quite ready to tell them yet. Amber and Hermione continued to bicker and their nightly feuds could be heard from all over Gryffindor tower. The first few times it was quite interesting to listen in, but by the fourth night in a row, everyone was grumbling the next morning.
In Defense against the Dark Arts, Professor Artemis had started training them on auras, magical fields that affected an area and could change the properties of it. Hogwarts, for example, had many auras placed upon it, some to increase learning and others to ward off intruders. Both unplotibility and the anti-apperation field were very advanced auras. He was training them on how to detect and combat some of the more common auras and even to create some. Unfortunately, after Lavender made a mistake casting a cheerfulness aura over the classroom and all wood surfaces in the room began to quickly grow thick pink fur, Professor Artemis returned to simply lecturing on them.
The morning of the Quidditch tryouts dawned cold and grey, but by lunchtime the cloud cover had burned off, and, besides a slight breeze it was near-perfect Quidditch weather. Nearly all of the students who were not competing had come out to watch, fighting for the best seats in the stands as the battle raged over the field. Madam Hooch began the proceedings by yelling "SORONOMUS!" so her voice could be heard above all the cheering. Then she began.
"Wizarding schools from all over the world play Quidditch. However, besides small inter-school competitions within countries, there have been no massive tournaments for younger wizards. However, this year, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge has joined in for the International Junior Quidditch Tournament. Today, we will select a team, from those who have been drafted by their houses, to represent the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Switzerland this spring.
"To determine which players are the best, we will be holding a series of competitions, to determine who is best suited for each position on the field and selecting two alternates as well. We will first decide on the position of beater. Because beaters usually work in teams, the two selected beaters will be from the same house. We will release five bludgers, which the beaters must use to knock one another off their brooms. The last standing beater and his or partner will become the Hogwarts beater. Are there any questions?"
There weren't.
"Then let's begin!"
Harry watched from the competitor's stands as eight shapes rose into the sky in teams of two. The two beaters from the Gryffindor, Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper, were, in Harry's private opinion, certainly did not live up to Fred and George's legacy. Harry also saw Crabbe and Goyle, the Slytherin beaters, who had a lot more brawn than brain or flying ability, but they managed to stay afloat.
The five bludgers went spinning up in the air and all aimed at a different person. Both Ravenclaw candidates, Crabbe, one o the Hufflepuff candidates, Justin Fitch-Fletchley, and Andrew all held out their bats, poised to strike. One of the Ravenclaw candidates became the first eliminated, the rest were knocked back. Justin knocked his, interestingly enough, straight at his partner with a lot of force. Harry soon saw why. With the power of both the Hufflepuff beaters, the bludger soared off at an amazing speed, chopping up the air as it rammed straight into Goyle. Goyle fell from his broom, and a bludger sent by Jack Sloper chased him. Just before he hit the ground, he knocked it with all his force back, and Jack Sloper became the third eliminated.
Now there were only five candidates left, exactly as many as there were bludgers. However, Harry seemed to notice that, rather than trading around equally, the bludgers seemed to ebb and flow, nearly all of them aiming at one person. The other Hufflepuff contender was the first to take the brunt of it, as he sent four of the bludgers straight at Terry Boot and took the fifth one right in his stomach. Now there was only one contestant remaining from each house.
They sent the bludgers back and forth, now furiously swiping at them. In an attempt to dodge, Andrew climbed into the air when a bludger hit him hard from behind. One hand still on his bat, he grabbed the broom and dropped below it, knocking another black ball straight at Justin. Justin dived below it and hit it upwards towards Crabbe, who was taking the brut of three others. Crabbe knocked all four straight at Terry, following them up with a fifth. Terry didn't stand a chance, and Ravenclaw became the first house eliminated from the beater competition.
Andrew was hanging perilously from his broom, completely still in midair. He was successfully knocking each bludger back, but it was only a matter of time until he was knocked off. Sure enough, Crabbe sent a bludger straight at his feet. Tried to kick it but lost his hold on his broom. The broom flew safely to the ground while Andrew went soaring through the air. Andrew had one last chance though. Ditching his beater's bat he reached out his right hand at the perfect moment and grabbed onto the back of Justin's broom. Justin, with a cry of fury, attempted a barrel roll to send him flying off; however, it just gave Andrew a better handhold while unbalancing Justin. With a yell of triumph, Andrew pulled himself up, grabbed Justin's bat from behind and used Justin as a shield from all five of the bludger, before bringing him not-so-safely to the ground.
Crabbe and Andrew circled each other and Harry could swear he heard Crabbe growling. Bludgers flew back and forth at a tremendous pace, each time one was deflected, another was already there. For several minutes the insane game of midair ping-pong happened, and then, suddenly, Crabbe shot foreword under a pack of bludgers. The bludgers wheeled around and followed him, streaking past Andrew on the way up. Andrew drew back, and raised his bat. The first bludger came soaring from below. Rather than aim at Crabbe, he sent this one spinning into another bludger sending both off harmlessly, for the time being at least. The next two were traveling together. Andrew, with one swipe, sent them both after Malfoy, who was far out of range. The last one came soaring up and he knocked it up… and it chose him again as the target. It flew down, and in a split second Andrew was falling from Justin's broom. Crabbe and Goyle had become the new beaters for the Hogwarts team. The Slytherin end erupted in cheers.
"The next competition," Madam Hooch continued as Crabbe soared above the bleachers amid cheers, "will be to decide upon the keeper. The four present keepers are Ronald Weasley of Gryffindor, Alexander McCormack of Hufflepuff, Adrianne Johnson of Ravenclaw and Michael Brady of Slytherin! They will all gather within this ring."
She rose her wand up, and, to the amazement of everybody watching, a blue-and-gold ring of sparks appeared in the center of the Quidditch pitch.
"They cannot leave this ring. Illusionary quaffles will fly from each of the goal posts, and they will disappear when someone touches them. The scoreboard has been changed around to count the number of touches each keeper gets. The first keeper to reach thirty touches wins this round. Ready? GO!"
All four keepers shot into the air… and waited. No balls were coming. They all circled the edges of the ring, awaiting the quaffles. None came for about two minutes. And then, just as they had begun to let their guard down, about twenty of quaffles flew from both ends of the pitch straight into the circle. They all flew at different levels which meant that it would be very difficult to get more than a few, and some were bound to be missed. Sure enough, each keeper got three points except for Ron who, accelerating in a downward dive, hurtled straight down to the ground, falling directly through no less than five quaffles. A great cheer erupted from the Gryffindor end of the stadium. The keepers got back into formation and awaited the next wave of quaffles.
After a minute of waiting, Harry saw a single red ball flying straight toward the right side of the circle. All four keepers had seen it too, and blasted off in that direction, getting as near to the edge of the ring as they dared. As the quaffle was approaching, Alex seemed to have an idea. He reversed upwards and then flew straight for all three of them who were grouped together to get the quaffle. All three dodged foreword and, in unison hit the air below the floating circle boundary. There was a loud crack, and three pieces of lightning flew off the sparking circle and hit all three of them. They spun back into the circle, looking dazed and confused. In the few seconds it took them to get their bearings back, Alex had captured the point.
But now the heat was on. Quaffles began flying at random from either side of the stadium and nearly every time a quaffle neared them, a crack was heard. Michael Brady of Slytherin thought up a way to counteract this. He flew small loops at the center of the circle and, when all three dived for it and were knocked back, he would swoop in and grab any quaffle. Unfortunately, this happened rarely, and he was soon lagging behind, though he stuck behind the strategy. The other three were neck-and-neck, Ron pulling slightly ahead, as he moved erratically and came from all directions to run the others out of the circle. Quaffles were increasingly becoming timed in the worst possible ways. Often, two quaffles would come, one very high and another very low. Rather than go for different ones, it seemed that all the contenders would fight for the nearest one, leaving the other to sail overhead. The score was close. Ron was at 29, both Alex and Adrianne were at 28 and Michael was lagging behind with only 26.
Then, suddenly, the quaffles stopped. There was another two minutes of silence. Then, what seemed like two quaffles stuck together flew through the air nearly thirty feet above them. Whoever got this would win (except for Michael, who would be given a fighting chance). In unison, four brooms turned nearly vertically upwards, and Harry watched in amazement as all four shot straight up at a breakneck pace. Michael had started out ahead, but Alex was pulling up, with Ron and Adrianne trailing. The quaffles seemed like they were going to pass straight through the ring with nobody catching them. And then, suddenly, at the center of the ring, they began to fall straight down.
Alex and Michael shot up past the combination quaffle and turned directly around, but were now lagging far behind. Ron made a sharp turn towards Adrianne, who dodged and hit the edge. Ron reached out with both hands, the victory was almost his. He felt wind nearby as Michael and Alex flew past him and began to circle below in case he dropped it. However, it didn't look like Ron had much of a chance of missing it. Just as Ron was about to clap both hands on the side of the joint ball when Adrianne, still pulsating with electricity, knocked straight into him. It was enough to shock him for long enough so that the ball dropped between his open arms and down towards the watchers below. There was a great "Ooh" of disappointment from both the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor crowds, but neither Ron nor Adrianne was out of the running. They turned and streaked downwards.
Ron flew past the quaffle which seemed to be falling quite slowly, and pulled out of his dive on roughly the same level as Michael and Alex. Adrianne flew below them. The quaffle was falling right in between all three. Like sharks on prey, they attacked it, all going for it at once. Michael hit Alex halfway there, and Alex went spinning backwards. Now only Ron, Michael and Adrianne were still in the running. Harry silently cheered Ron, as he was so nervous about the seeker match that he was practically unable to whisper, let alone shout. Ron and Michael arrived at the same time. Both put their hands out… and they were hit by a double midair back flip from Adrianne. They had fallen to either side. Now Alex, being lower, was the favorite for the ball. And then Adrianne dropped from her broom.
Screams of terror erupted from the stadium. Madam Hooch, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick and Madam Pomphrey ran together in a square and, with a swish of their wands, formed a tarp on which Adrianne was to land. Adrianne flew through the air, stretching her feet out to touch the ball, just as Alex's fingers were about to close over it. And then the ring turned blue. Alex flew backward and was hit by lightning. Adrianne fell with a broad smile on her face right into the middle of the magical tarp among loud cheering from the blue-robed Ravenclaws. She had been selected as the Hogwarts keeper.
"Now," said Madam Hooch in her magically magnified voice once the tarp was removed, "we will be selecting a seeker! Seekers are often referred to as the most important players on a team, and I fully agree, so may our selection of a seeker be a good one!"
Harry looked at his competition. There was Cho Chang, Harry's old crush, Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff Harry occasionally hung out with and Draco Malfoy who Harry hated with a passion.
"This competition will be short and simple. A single Snitch will be released. The first seeker to capture it wins the honor of representing Hogwarts."
Well, that's pretty easy, Harry thought, his stomach churning with anxiety. We don't even have to dodge bludgers or anything. I should be able to win this hands-down. Though the words were going through his head, his body didn't seem to believe it. He was shaking as he mounted his Firebolt and smiled up at the shouting Gryffindor crowd.
"From Slytherin, we have Draco Malfoy,"
Malfoy launched up amid a standing ovation from his house. Harry swore that his entrance couldn't have been cheesier if his teeth had sparkled.
"From Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillan!"
Ernie Macmillan was a complete contrast from the swooping Malfoy. He looked nearly as scared as Harry as he drove his broom into the sky, waving timidly at his shouting, stamping supporters.
"From Ravenclaw, please welcome Cho Chang!"
Cho, too, looked quite nervous, but much less so than Ernie. She gave a hearty attempt at a wave and joined the others circling above the stadium. Harry was up next, and he could feel his blood get cold. This was it, he was about to play the Quidditch match that might decide whether he played in the Junior World Cup or not. He had, he assumed, a one in four chance of winning, but somehow, seeing the humungous crowd, he felt that that was less than reassuring. He saw Hermione, Neville, Lavender, Umiko and Pravati holding up a big sign with the ornate lettering GO HARRY and he felt slightly better. Gulping, he awaited Madam Hooch's cry.
"Last but not least, we have… from the house of Gryffindor… Harry Potter!"
Harry shoved himself off the ground and went hurtling into the sky, feeling the wind blow silkily against his face. And now he knew it: he was going to win this match. The whistle blew, and they were off, all four scanning for the elusive snitch. Harry scarcely had time to watch the others as they shot upwards. Harry had a new plan he had worked on in training. If they were all above looking down, he could be inches from the grass, looking up. It would be much easier to feint and the snitch often liked to hang low. However, that gave him a much more limited field of vision, so he would have to watch his competitors for any signs of the snitch.
For five minutes, there was nothing. The sun was hot and Harry was already sweating fiercely under his red and gold Quidditch robes. All for of them had made a few feints, however after a few times people stopped believing them. Thinking strategically, Harry decided it could probably be a good thing to be the boy who cried wolf, so he feinted more than anyone else, and pretty soon, everyone ignored his random swoops and dives. When the real snitch surfaced, Harry would be able to go after it with relative ease, presuming he was the first one to spot it.
He wasn't. Malfoy was. Malfoy had just started another feint; shooting straight at the Hufflepuff stands when he turned abruptly and shot down towards the ground, where Harry saw a flash of gold poking a dandelion with its wings tentatively. As it saw both Harry and Malfoy shoot for it, leaning out so far they were almost parallel with their brooms and Ernie and Cho following not too far behind, it took flight, going even lower than it was. There was no way to fly a broom that low. Harry heard a crack and a wave of laughter from the crowd and turned for long enough to see that Malfoy had hit the ground and rolled off his broom and then Harry pulled out of his dive seamlessly, picked up his feet so he was lying flat on the broom and shot forward inches from the ground, gaining on the snitch and leaving Cho and Ernie behind… And then the snitch dived down a rabbit hole and out of sight. Cursing, Harry shot back up to slightly below laying height.
The snitch reappeared less than a minute later, just as Malfoy had rejoined the game, grimacing in pain. It was, it seemed to Harry a very playful snitch (Harry wondered if Sarah had been transfigured into a snitch for the game), as it was seen playing with Ginny's hair down on the competitor's bench. All four of them seemed to see it at once and four brooms shot straight at Ginny's head. Harry was very far ahead, and the others had no chance of catching up.
"Ginny, look out!" Harry yelled.
Ginny didn't need telling twice. She threw herself aside as Harry reached for the snitch… and the snitch bonked him once, painfully on the nose and disappeared again. Now it was Harry's turn to plow straight into the bench at fifty miles per hour and fall heavily on the ground. He saw stars. He was too confused, nothing seemed right, how was he supposed to continue the match? There was a blur of faces above in the bleachers screaming madly, but Harry, despite the fat that he still felt his glasses intact and in place, couldn't see them…
He gritted his teeth, shook his head clean, and mounted his broom. But it seemed to be too late. The other three were shooting for the snitch which had decided it wanted to do rough figure eights around the entire stadium, occasionally hiding behind spectators. Harry shot straight up at the middle of the figure eight, but Ernie was far ahead, and was just about to clamp his hands around it… And the snitch then turned around, flew straight over Ernie's head and towards Cho. Harry was just behind Cho, who was reaching furiously out… The snitch evaded her grasping fingers and (with a gasp from the crowd) did a small circle and tangled itself up in her hair.
Screaming, Cho's hands ripped and tore at the hair that she had spent so much time caring for. The snitch didn't seem to care, flapping madly around in there. Harry flew up behind her and, feeling his face turn red, plunged his hand between her thick hairs. Cho screamed. Harry retracted his hand. The snitch had left her hair and was once again out of sight. Cho gave Harry a look of pure loathing and set off again in her search.
But it wasn't long until Ernie was shooting for something and Harry, catching a glint of gold, followed. It was now investigating one of the goal rings, and Ernie was closer than anybody else. Harry saw an opportunity. He smashed into Malfoy, who was beside him at the time and Malfoy hit the post that supported the goal ring. The ring shuddered for a moment and the snitch took off in a panicked flight straight towards Harry and Cho, who was just behind him.
Cho dropped down. Harry shot up. The snitch flew between them. Both shot out at it, feeling Malfoy and Ernie trailing, but catching up. Harry reached out. The snitch was right there, right in front of his hand. Harry saw Cho's arm do the same, with a look on her face that implied she had a personal vendetta against the small, gold ball for messing up her hair. Harry's hand clasped over something silky and smooth – the snitch's wing! Cho had grabbed the other wing. Both wings ripped off and the golden ball began to fall towards the ground.
All four of them dropped, watching as the golden ball hit a stand, and bounced upwards, it's light weight carried by the wind. In unison, all four swerved back upwards after the ball which was out of control. Harry mentally urged the Firebolt on. C'mon, this is my big chance! He threw his arm out. He felt something just beyond his reach. He grabbed again. This time hr\e grasped something cold and metallic. He had the snitch! Shouting for joy, he held up the gleaming ball to the roaring crowd. He had won, and would be playing seeker for Hogwarts that spring at the Junior Quidditch World Cup.