A/N: Wow wow wow! I am so excited! 15 reviews! :D. And a lot of
questions.... thanx to ALL reviewers, and...
Chocoliciouz - my beta is Eihwaz and a drawing pin, she tells me, is what
an American would call a tack... we moved to Switzerland 60 odd years ago
(lol) but were originally British English! Eihwaz has spent a lot of time
in America...
Liraniel - Yes, I have read Pensieve, and I certainly don't hate you. I
will try to include more Snape but personally, I prefer not to have
altering points of view, so there is a limit to how much I can include him.
As for humour... I will try.
Quiteona - Yes this will tie with OOTP as much as possible.
Chapter 5
Dad was the one to take me to the Quidditch place - he was, truth to tell, more excited than Mum, who I think slightly resented losing me for another fortnight. Dad, on the other hand, had gone so far as to buy me a new broomstick - a Nimbus 1000, recently debuted and the best on the market. "Can't have the champion turning up with Dad's old Cleansweep 2," he explained, half proudly, half sheepishly.
So, armed with my trunk and my new broom, I arrived at the England Quidditch team training ground. It was in the middle of London, a portal in a public lavatory cubicle that was permanently 'out of order'. Not the most exquisite location for getting to such an exciting place, but it served its purpose. My invisibility cloak would have come in very useful, if I hadn't left it at home, to cover up the fact that I was a boy taking a broomstick and a large trunk into a public toilet and not re-emerging. Luckily, at the time we went in, there was nobody else to see us - too early for the commuters and too late for the party goers coming home.
"Ready?" Dad said, eyeing the portal with distaste as it opened before us. "God, it's ages since I had to use one of these. You'll have to learn to apparate, son!"
I grinned and took a pace forward. "One day, yes. Shall I go first, or you?"
"You," he said. "I'll bring your trunk."
Grasping my Nimbus 1000, I took a deep breath - it could be hard to breathe whilst spinning so fast - and stepped into the swirling vacuum.
The landing is always the hardest bit - my feet hit solid ground and my knees buckled, but I did not fall over. I jumped out of the way just in time as Dad came rushing down next to me. He blinked several times, shook his head to clear it and pulled a face. "Bleurgh," he said. "I really do hate those things. Are you all right?"
I nodded. "Where do we go now?"
Dad turned around. "This way."
I rotated round as well and gasped. In front of me was a massive, gleaming white building with posts and towers and an arch in the middle. The England flag waved from each turret - there were four that I could just see, forming a square border around what must be the pitch itself. A perfect gravelled path swept up to the entrance.
"Er -" I said helplessly.
Dad grinned. "Come on," he said. "Reception's this way."
The first day was the worst and the best, because of that. I was left feeling incredibly daunted and small, especially when the England captain appeared from nowhere and smiled at me, and when the other girls and boys arrived - I was one of the youngest. However, I also felt strangely confident - having been the first to arrive, I felt I had superior knowledge of the accommodation and layout of the place, and I was the only one not to be seen saying goodbye to my parent. That was a bonus. But even without all that, I felt oddly at home in this place where everything was dedicated to my favourite sport, and the fact that I had been chosen to attend the course filled me with a bubbling sense of pride and self- assurance. Friends were easy to make - I appeared to be exuding an aura of self-possession which drew the other boys to me, whether cocky and wanting to be on a level with me, or unsure and looking up to me. A fair few of the girls seemed to be interested in me as well. Naturally enough, I didn't reveal the fact that half of this experience was terrifying to me. That was for my parents, and only them, to hear about by owl. I would never hear the end of it if either Sirius or any of these people realised.
We started flying the next morning - a proper game of Quidditch, so that the tutors could see what stages each of us were at. There were twenty five pupils, including me - not quite enough people for four whole teams, but too many for three teams. "Well, that's easily fixed," Charlie Braxton, the England keeper, laughed. "Three of us can join in. Here, get into four teams - three of six and one of seven."
There were many more boys than girls at the camp; it ended up that six of the girls ended up on a team with Braxton, and the other four split themselves into pairs, two on my team and two in the seven. Three boys that I had talked to the previous night joined me with Frank Morton, one of the England chasers, who we had also chatted to at breakfast.
"So," Frank said jovially. "Can I be one of the chasers, or do I have to play another position?"
"No way!" Scott, one of the boys, exclaimed. "If we want to win, you need to be in your best place!"
He laughed. "Okay. What about the rest of you? James, where do you normally play?"
"I don't really mind," I said. "Anywhere."
"Okay. Try Keeper." Typical, my worst position. Well, I wasn't bad at it. I just found it boring. I like flying properly, not just bobbing around on the spot.
I nodded anyway, but someone spotted my irritation. "No, I don't like being Keeper either," said a female voice beside me. "Too stationary."
I turned my head and grinned at the girl, whose name I knew to be Maria. "Exactly. What's your favourite position?"
She considered. "Seeker. Or Chaser. I don't much like being Beater, either - I'm not really aggressive enough for that."
"Oh, well, I don't mind Beater. I must be more ruthless than you - I fantasise about knocking my archenemy off his broom."
She giggled. "Well, so long as you don't try that on me."
I smiled. "Would I ever?"
This Maria was quite pretty. I might try and make friends with her. She had one definite advantage: "She likes you!" Thomas whispered teasingly from beside me a minute later. I couldn't reply as the whistle blew and we kicked off.
I didn't have much to do - the Chasers on the other team were scrappy and badly prepared, even I could see that. Plus, with Frank as one of our Chasers, the other team rarely held possession of the Quaffle. I saved a total of two goals before our Seeker managed, by what I could see was luck, to grab the Snitch which had paused by him.
We had a small tournament after that, each team versus all the others, and finally stopped for lunch. I sat down opposite Maria and her friends, who began to giggle. I noticed that she was wearing robes - I had changed into jeans and a T-shirt, as had a couple of her friends. I surmised that she must live in an all-wizard village like Hogsmeade, where it was normal to wear robes all the time. I only dressed like a wizard at school, and was impressed. I gave her a half smile, one I had perfected at primary school on noting that it had a devastating effect on girls. Strange that I hadn't thought of trying it at Hogwarts...
She grinned back. "How was being Keeper, then?"
"Tedious. You were a far better Chaser than any of them."
"Well, we had Frank. They did get two attempts - that wasn't bad."
"Didn't score, though, did they?" I laughed.
"No, well..." Her eyes sparkled at me.
Scott and Alex crashed down into seats beside me. "Hey James."
"Hi," I said. They were eyeing me strangely. "What?"
"You look different to this morning," Alex said eventually. "But I dunno why."
I shrugged. "Well, I don't know what it is. So, where's Thomas?"
Thomas and Alex were Ravenclaws in the year above me at Hogwarts. Scott was a Hufflepuff in my own year, but not someone I had spoken to much. I didn't recognise Maria, which was strange as she was definitely secondary school age. "I have home tutoring," she explained when I asked her about this at dinner on the second evening.
"How come?"
"My parents work for the ministry," she said, "so we move around a lot."
"Then surely boarding school would be a good thing?"
"And also I have dancing," she added.
"Dancing?"
"Yeah. They don't teach it at Hogwarts, and I plan to be a dancer when I'm older. The tutor I have plays Quidditch with me, too - that's why I'm here. My parents are in Egypt this fortnight, so they decided to send me here. It's good fun, don't you think? And a break from dancing."
I nodded. So far, the only part I didn't enjoy so much was the fitness training in the gym - weights and cardiovascular stuff that I couldn't see had anything much to do with Quidditch.
"Truth to tell, it doesn't," Frank Morton told me when I grumbled to him. "But we have to do it. It's good training in discipline - and strength is necessary in the rain. Plus, you need to be toned and streamlined. You couldn't really have an overweight Quidditch player, could you?"
"But I'm not!"
"No, but that doesn't mean that nobody else is. Come on, you'll get used to it."
And I did. There was something quite fun in the routine, once you reconciled yourself to it. I still preferred the actual Quidditch, though. Skills lessons were far more interesting than the ones at school - learning how to execute advanced manoeuvres and such was thrilling in a way that learning to shoot effectively wasn't. Plus, we were all competent players - I couldn't help but picture Sirius amongst us and laugh. In fact, I even caught myself comparing Lily Evans in the air to Maria - now that was new.
The days passed far too quickly. Halfway through the second week, when we only had three days left, Gary Lambert announced that there was to be a competition. "We will judge you on simple and advanced skills, and then in an actual game of Quidditch, like on your first day, but hopefully more accomplished!"
There was a murmur of people talking around me, but I was thinking quickly. This must be what Madame Hooch had meant when she said there would be a chance for me to win my way into the England junior team.
And maybe I could. I was the best in my group, I knew, but I wasn't sure about some of the others. One of the older ones was bound to win it. But then again...
Maria appeared by my side. "I bet you'll win," she said.
I raised an eyebrow. "I doubt it."
"No, really," she said. "I've seen you play and I've seen the others play. I know I'm not that good myself, but my aunt's taught me to single out good people."
I was going to ask her what her aunt did, but the end of lunch bell rang and we all went to change for the skills part of the competition.
The actual game part of the assessment came on the morning of the penultimate day. We were on the same teams as on the first day, but positions were different. Frank Morton was choosing for us again, but he was basing it on skill this time.
"Right, James... you can be Seeker. Pit you against old Gary Lambert."
I swallowed. "All right." Me, against the England seeker? Surely this wasn't fair!
Thomas, Scott and Alex laughed at me. "Ha ha, James! Rather you than me!"
"Yeah," I said. "Still, at least you can't blame me if we don't win."
Maria smiled at me. "I'd say you've got a chance. Auntie Belinda always said you were really good, and that was before you came here. Mrs Hooch," she explained as I looked puzzled
"Did she now?" I grinned as I mounted my broom.
**** B/N (Eihwaz): Yay! Isn't James's head getting bigger and bigger? Yes, he's insufferable *grins*
However as a hardworking beta *coughs meaningfully* I must say that I HATE Maria!!! But my dear darling Lourdaise insists the little Mary-Sue has a 'purpose', so I must wait a few chapters before I can... dispose ...of her. Unless I kidnap the next chapter :)
...Hang on, I already HAVE the next chapter *rubs hands together in devilish glee* Muahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaa
A/N (Lourdaise): Aren't forks such useful implements?
Chapter 5
Dad was the one to take me to the Quidditch place - he was, truth to tell, more excited than Mum, who I think slightly resented losing me for another fortnight. Dad, on the other hand, had gone so far as to buy me a new broomstick - a Nimbus 1000, recently debuted and the best on the market. "Can't have the champion turning up with Dad's old Cleansweep 2," he explained, half proudly, half sheepishly.
So, armed with my trunk and my new broom, I arrived at the England Quidditch team training ground. It was in the middle of London, a portal in a public lavatory cubicle that was permanently 'out of order'. Not the most exquisite location for getting to such an exciting place, but it served its purpose. My invisibility cloak would have come in very useful, if I hadn't left it at home, to cover up the fact that I was a boy taking a broomstick and a large trunk into a public toilet and not re-emerging. Luckily, at the time we went in, there was nobody else to see us - too early for the commuters and too late for the party goers coming home.
"Ready?" Dad said, eyeing the portal with distaste as it opened before us. "God, it's ages since I had to use one of these. You'll have to learn to apparate, son!"
I grinned and took a pace forward. "One day, yes. Shall I go first, or you?"
"You," he said. "I'll bring your trunk."
Grasping my Nimbus 1000, I took a deep breath - it could be hard to breathe whilst spinning so fast - and stepped into the swirling vacuum.
The landing is always the hardest bit - my feet hit solid ground and my knees buckled, but I did not fall over. I jumped out of the way just in time as Dad came rushing down next to me. He blinked several times, shook his head to clear it and pulled a face. "Bleurgh," he said. "I really do hate those things. Are you all right?"
I nodded. "Where do we go now?"
Dad turned around. "This way."
I rotated round as well and gasped. In front of me was a massive, gleaming white building with posts and towers and an arch in the middle. The England flag waved from each turret - there were four that I could just see, forming a square border around what must be the pitch itself. A perfect gravelled path swept up to the entrance.
"Er -" I said helplessly.
Dad grinned. "Come on," he said. "Reception's this way."
The first day was the worst and the best, because of that. I was left feeling incredibly daunted and small, especially when the England captain appeared from nowhere and smiled at me, and when the other girls and boys arrived - I was one of the youngest. However, I also felt strangely confident - having been the first to arrive, I felt I had superior knowledge of the accommodation and layout of the place, and I was the only one not to be seen saying goodbye to my parent. That was a bonus. But even without all that, I felt oddly at home in this place where everything was dedicated to my favourite sport, and the fact that I had been chosen to attend the course filled me with a bubbling sense of pride and self- assurance. Friends were easy to make - I appeared to be exuding an aura of self-possession which drew the other boys to me, whether cocky and wanting to be on a level with me, or unsure and looking up to me. A fair few of the girls seemed to be interested in me as well. Naturally enough, I didn't reveal the fact that half of this experience was terrifying to me. That was for my parents, and only them, to hear about by owl. I would never hear the end of it if either Sirius or any of these people realised.
We started flying the next morning - a proper game of Quidditch, so that the tutors could see what stages each of us were at. There were twenty five pupils, including me - not quite enough people for four whole teams, but too many for three teams. "Well, that's easily fixed," Charlie Braxton, the England keeper, laughed. "Three of us can join in. Here, get into four teams - three of six and one of seven."
There were many more boys than girls at the camp; it ended up that six of the girls ended up on a team with Braxton, and the other four split themselves into pairs, two on my team and two in the seven. Three boys that I had talked to the previous night joined me with Frank Morton, one of the England chasers, who we had also chatted to at breakfast.
"So," Frank said jovially. "Can I be one of the chasers, or do I have to play another position?"
"No way!" Scott, one of the boys, exclaimed. "If we want to win, you need to be in your best place!"
He laughed. "Okay. What about the rest of you? James, where do you normally play?"
"I don't really mind," I said. "Anywhere."
"Okay. Try Keeper." Typical, my worst position. Well, I wasn't bad at it. I just found it boring. I like flying properly, not just bobbing around on the spot.
I nodded anyway, but someone spotted my irritation. "No, I don't like being Keeper either," said a female voice beside me. "Too stationary."
I turned my head and grinned at the girl, whose name I knew to be Maria. "Exactly. What's your favourite position?"
She considered. "Seeker. Or Chaser. I don't much like being Beater, either - I'm not really aggressive enough for that."
"Oh, well, I don't mind Beater. I must be more ruthless than you - I fantasise about knocking my archenemy off his broom."
She giggled. "Well, so long as you don't try that on me."
I smiled. "Would I ever?"
This Maria was quite pretty. I might try and make friends with her. She had one definite advantage: "She likes you!" Thomas whispered teasingly from beside me a minute later. I couldn't reply as the whistle blew and we kicked off.
I didn't have much to do - the Chasers on the other team were scrappy and badly prepared, even I could see that. Plus, with Frank as one of our Chasers, the other team rarely held possession of the Quaffle. I saved a total of two goals before our Seeker managed, by what I could see was luck, to grab the Snitch which had paused by him.
We had a small tournament after that, each team versus all the others, and finally stopped for lunch. I sat down opposite Maria and her friends, who began to giggle. I noticed that she was wearing robes - I had changed into jeans and a T-shirt, as had a couple of her friends. I surmised that she must live in an all-wizard village like Hogsmeade, where it was normal to wear robes all the time. I only dressed like a wizard at school, and was impressed. I gave her a half smile, one I had perfected at primary school on noting that it had a devastating effect on girls. Strange that I hadn't thought of trying it at Hogwarts...
She grinned back. "How was being Keeper, then?"
"Tedious. You were a far better Chaser than any of them."
"Well, we had Frank. They did get two attempts - that wasn't bad."
"Didn't score, though, did they?" I laughed.
"No, well..." Her eyes sparkled at me.
Scott and Alex crashed down into seats beside me. "Hey James."
"Hi," I said. They were eyeing me strangely. "What?"
"You look different to this morning," Alex said eventually. "But I dunno why."
I shrugged. "Well, I don't know what it is. So, where's Thomas?"
Thomas and Alex were Ravenclaws in the year above me at Hogwarts. Scott was a Hufflepuff in my own year, but not someone I had spoken to much. I didn't recognise Maria, which was strange as she was definitely secondary school age. "I have home tutoring," she explained when I asked her about this at dinner on the second evening.
"How come?"
"My parents work for the ministry," she said, "so we move around a lot."
"Then surely boarding school would be a good thing?"
"And also I have dancing," she added.
"Dancing?"
"Yeah. They don't teach it at Hogwarts, and I plan to be a dancer when I'm older. The tutor I have plays Quidditch with me, too - that's why I'm here. My parents are in Egypt this fortnight, so they decided to send me here. It's good fun, don't you think? And a break from dancing."
I nodded. So far, the only part I didn't enjoy so much was the fitness training in the gym - weights and cardiovascular stuff that I couldn't see had anything much to do with Quidditch.
"Truth to tell, it doesn't," Frank Morton told me when I grumbled to him. "But we have to do it. It's good training in discipline - and strength is necessary in the rain. Plus, you need to be toned and streamlined. You couldn't really have an overweight Quidditch player, could you?"
"But I'm not!"
"No, but that doesn't mean that nobody else is. Come on, you'll get used to it."
And I did. There was something quite fun in the routine, once you reconciled yourself to it. I still preferred the actual Quidditch, though. Skills lessons were far more interesting than the ones at school - learning how to execute advanced manoeuvres and such was thrilling in a way that learning to shoot effectively wasn't. Plus, we were all competent players - I couldn't help but picture Sirius amongst us and laugh. In fact, I even caught myself comparing Lily Evans in the air to Maria - now that was new.
The days passed far too quickly. Halfway through the second week, when we only had three days left, Gary Lambert announced that there was to be a competition. "We will judge you on simple and advanced skills, and then in an actual game of Quidditch, like on your first day, but hopefully more accomplished!"
There was a murmur of people talking around me, but I was thinking quickly. This must be what Madame Hooch had meant when she said there would be a chance for me to win my way into the England junior team.
And maybe I could. I was the best in my group, I knew, but I wasn't sure about some of the others. One of the older ones was bound to win it. But then again...
Maria appeared by my side. "I bet you'll win," she said.
I raised an eyebrow. "I doubt it."
"No, really," she said. "I've seen you play and I've seen the others play. I know I'm not that good myself, but my aunt's taught me to single out good people."
I was going to ask her what her aunt did, but the end of lunch bell rang and we all went to change for the skills part of the competition.
The actual game part of the assessment came on the morning of the penultimate day. We were on the same teams as on the first day, but positions were different. Frank Morton was choosing for us again, but he was basing it on skill this time.
"Right, James... you can be Seeker. Pit you against old Gary Lambert."
I swallowed. "All right." Me, against the England seeker? Surely this wasn't fair!
Thomas, Scott and Alex laughed at me. "Ha ha, James! Rather you than me!"
"Yeah," I said. "Still, at least you can't blame me if we don't win."
Maria smiled at me. "I'd say you've got a chance. Auntie Belinda always said you were really good, and that was before you came here. Mrs Hooch," she explained as I looked puzzled
"Did she now?" I grinned as I mounted my broom.
**** B/N (Eihwaz): Yay! Isn't James's head getting bigger and bigger? Yes, he's insufferable *grins*
However as a hardworking beta *coughs meaningfully* I must say that I HATE Maria!!! But my dear darling Lourdaise insists the little Mary-Sue has a 'purpose', so I must wait a few chapters before I can... dispose ...of her. Unless I kidnap the next chapter :)
...Hang on, I already HAVE the next chapter *rubs hands together in devilish glee* Muahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaa
A/N (Lourdaise): Aren't forks such useful implements?