Disclaimer: J. K Rowling owns it all, except two characters.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Akalei – we're afraid this chapter is going to be sueish. Thanks for reviewing, we'll make sure to read your story! Glad Neville is getting appreciated.


FFF

4. – Quidditch tryouts

In the late afternoon of Tuesday the 8th, several young, eager Gryffindors vied for the available positions on the Quidditch team. Ginny was the third to try, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the stands, cheering as she passed the Quaffle back and forth with Katie Bell. She easily bested the two previous candidates, to the surprise of no one. Not even of Malfoy, who had come to watch and to distract the contestants; or so they all assumed.

But there was something, or rather, someone else that had caught his interest. As the evening approached, it was Kya's turn to fly.

She had brought her own broomstick, an ancient Silver Arrow in top condition, and seated herself on it. Madam Hooch had a hard time containing her enthusiasm for the broom.

Slowly Kya rose from the ground, the wind blowing through her long, glistening mass of white locks. In the autumn twilight, Harry thought she looked unreal, like a spectre with her white hair, pale skin and deep purple eyes, which were at that moment filled with a sublime joy. He knew the feeling well. It was one he had experienced many times on his Nimbus 2000, and lately, his Firebolt.

She soared around the Quidditch pitch, not quickly, but with a perfect precision.

"She flies well," remarked Katie, who was standing close to the stands. "But she's also got to be able to fly fast and duck if a Bludger comes."

They started with the same routine Katie had used for the other tryouts, namely passing the Quaffle to each other, back and forth, and scoring. After a while, Katie put herself in the keeper's position and instructed Kya to try to put the ball through the hoop. Kya smiled a bit uncertainly, and made ready to comply.

People were watching with interest. Everyone but one. Ron was looking at Malfoy in amazement. Malfoy hadn't said anything snide or rude at all since Kya had walked onto the pitch. In fact, he was watching her raptly, and he seemed a bit different from his usual snotty self. A half smile was playing on his lips. Then something incredible happened; Kya looked over at Malfoy and waved.

Malfoy looked ecstatic. Ron shook his head. Was the whole place going mental?

Nobody else seemed to think so however, and after a moment he concluded that she must have been waving at Harry, who was also smiling somewhat idiotically. It was the only possible explanation. After all, who would want to wave at an evil little snobby, thin-faced twit like Malfoy?


By the end of the tryouts, no-one was left in doubt as to who had been made Chaser. Kya and Ginny had flown very well, and everyone supported Katie's decision to put them on the team.

Kya had gone off to change into her normal robes, but Ginny stopped for a chat with Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Ron clapped his sister on the back.

"We'll win this year," he said, enthusiastically.

"Yeah, that was amazing," said Harry.

Ginny grinned, blushing self-consciously. Her hair was mussed from flying, and her eyes were sparkling with excitement. She laughed. Harry noted that she seemed to be far happier than she had been for a long time. He felt strangely warmed by this.

"You really flew very well," said Hermione. Ginny's grin widened. Getting recognition from Hermione for having flown well was a rare occurrence.

"Hey, Weasley," Malfoy yelled from the stands. He seemed to have recovered from his trancelike state. "Potter been pulling some strings?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ginny shouted back, angrily.

"Bit slow on the uptake, aren't you?" shouted Malfoy. He was too far away and it was too dark for them to be able to see his face very clearly, but they could hear the sneer in his voice.

"It's obvious," he continued. "Potter has been using his influence with the captain to get his girlfriends on the team."

Ginny bristled.

"What do you mean, 'using his influence'?" she demanded to know.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" he yelled, sounding as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "I knew you were empty-headed, running after Potter all the time, but I thought even you could have figured that out. Of course, I don't suppose he left much of substance in that red head of yours when they exorcised him…"

Ginny and Harry just stared at him, not really understanding what was so funny. Harry recalled the happenings of four years previously. Ginny had nearly died, as a result of a small diary, placed in her possession by Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy's father. He had tried not to think of it, and had succeeded for almost a year.

And there was Malfoy, up at the stands, sniggering as though he'd made a brilliant joke. The sound was cut off abruptly, as Hermione's fist connected with his nose. Ron was directly behind her, pointing his wand right between Malfoy's eyes. Harry couldn't hear what he was saying, but his threatening stance was unmistakable.

Harry turned to Ginny.

"Are you alright?" he asked. She scratched the nape of her neck, looking a bit bewildered. Then she giggled.

"I'd have paid to see Malfoy's expression when Hermione hit him," she said. She giggled some more when she saw how surprised Harry was at her quick change of mood. Nevertheless, her laughter was infectious, and Harry found himself grinning in response to it.

He was soon relating to her in explicit detail, the story of Malfoy's first encounter with Hermione's violent streak. Ginny thought the tale was hilarious, and they both sniggered in a manner eerily similar to Malfoy's earlier expression of mirth.

They took no notice of the shouting match going on in the stands. If they had, they would no doubt have been delighted to hear that Malfoy was losing it miserably, his witticisms failing him at this crucial moment. Ron and Hermione knew he would tattle to professor Snape, but right then they didn't care. In times to come, they would look back at this evening with a strong sense of satisfaction, and no regret. Not only had they beaten Malfoy; they had done it together.