Chapter 5 – The Quidditch Tryouts

"Password?" The dubious gargoyle said as Harry's head protruded from the stair horizon.

"Lemon Popsicles." The golden staircase spiralled open in front of Harry, releasing an aroma filled with foreign herbs and scents. Harry carefully placed one of his two left feet on the first step and stumbled into the stone wall. Dust fell from the century old crevices, and Harry jumped the remaining stairs hastily, trying not to cause any more trouble than need be.

He found the usually loyal office door ajar and so just walked inside. Upon entering the familiar room, Harry made his presence known by coughing slightly. A few of the portraits of past headmasters and mistresses shifted angrily from their relaxing positions, trying to let sleep engulf them once more. Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, lifted his beautiful flame coloured head from his breast, and after noticing it was the hunched figure of Harry standing before him that had made the disturbance, retreated his head once again into a comfy bed of feathers.

"Please Harry, take a seat." A weary Dumbledore said as he steadied himself at the bottom of the starlit stairs. Harry sat down on a comfy seat nearby. Dumbledore sat carefully down in the chair opposite.

"Now Harry, I am saddened by the thought, but you and I know too well that Voldemort is not finished." Dumbledore's face was cheerless, and contained the obvious signs of sleep deprivation; the eerie shadows under his eyes also betrayed his wrinkly features, making him look his old age.

"I know." Harry concentrated on a lonely spec of dust lying in the middle of the rustic floor.

"I trust you have met Shawn by now," Harry grunted in response. "And I presume that you are wondering why he is here, and also why he has come into the school so late on?"

"I guess." Harry said, still not building up enough courage to take his eyes off of the floor. Dumbledore shuffled on is chair and the quiet creaks echoed through Harry's ears like a raging waterfall.

"I feel that Shawn may be the key," Harry finally looked up, consumed by interest," I have been studying his progress over the years and have decided that he can only properly harness his skills here, with me.

"Yeah, but…"

"He is here because I can ensure no harm comes to him, and now, because I feel that he is ready to develop his skills to the next level." Dumbledore answered Harry's question without it being asked. Harry didn't need it explained to him twice.

"But I thought, I thought that the prophecy was about me and Voldemort, no other?" Dumbledore sighed at Harry's naivety.

"We will postpone this discussion until a later meeting, but first let me give you a question to ponder; who made the prophecy?"

Harry thought for a moment, he knew the answer of course, but he didn't know what Dumbledore was trying to say. Then it hit him like a tonne of steel bricks, Harry had always thought Trelawney a fraud, why should this prophecy be any different.

"Now," Dumbledore rose gracefully from his chair and brandished his wand with an aura of power surrounding him, "We are going to practise a reasonably simple defence spell. The best way to learn what it does would be for me to show you. Brace yourself Harry." Dumbledore pointed his wand at Harry's and uttered 'Gaulious'. For a split second Harry thought that the spell had not worked, but then, from the end of Harry's wand came chlorine coloured bubbles. They floated harmlessly in the air, a sense of tranquillity about them. Harry had to hold back a chuckle, what kind of use would this be. Harry found out. The bubbles rapidly began to speed around the room, and then they all flew at Harry's bemused face as one. One hit him on the forehead and burst like a balloon full of sharpened pins. Another sent him to the ground with an immense thud to the abdomen. Harry managed to duck the last one, and looked up angrily at Dumbledore, who simply shrugged like a guilty teenager pretending he was innocent.

"Now Harry, you try." Dumbledore showed the wand movement as Harry struggled to his feet.

After a second's preparation, Harry flicked his wand as he was shown and said 'Galius'. Instead of the bubbles floating from the tip of Dumbledore's wand however, one vulgar brown one emerged from Harry's wand. It didn't let go of the wand and kept on getting bigger and bigger. It erupted in Harry's face, slime slopping onto his clothes.

"Don't worry; you'll get the hang of it." Dumbledore laughed croakily. Harry was far from amused.

"Hey Ron." Harry shouted as the exuberant colour of Ron's hair his Harry's eye.

"Oh, hey Harry. Are you ready for the quidditch tryouts then?" Harry shook his reliable Firebolt in Ron's face, "as ready as I'll ever be!"

After putting on their fresh Gryffindor quidditch robes, Harry Ron and Ginny went down to the pitch. The green grass was freshly mown and was giving off that damp smell. The three hoops stood alone at either end and the stands, usually packed for the match, were completely empty.

A long line of hopefuls stood to face them. Scanning down the line, Harry saw Shawn, who met his gaze and smiled widely; Harry forced a grin back, and called the first in line.

"Okay then," Harry looked at the small boy who now stood before him, his legs were trembling ferociously, "Name?"

"Ja, Jack."

"Okay Jack, what position are you trying out for?"

"Er, ch, chaser I guess." Jack said in a high pitched voice. Harry cringed discreetly, all the while deciding not to hold his breath.

Jack kicked off shakily from the coarse ground, and Harry threw the large red quaffle into the air. Jack lunged clumsily at it as if he were drunk and missed. Harry rubbed his temples, hoping others would be of a better standard.

"Next!"

The next six or seven hopefuls were all as bad as each other. One accidentally hit the quaffle straight at the school, smashing a window, another crashed violently to the ground, and all the rest didn't even manage to leave the ground.

"Who's next?" Harry roared, and was surprised to see the small figure of Collin Creevey.

"Hello Harry." Collin beamed in his non-stop cheerful voice, "shall I just start then? Oh yeah, I want to be a chaser."

"Er, I guess."

Collin eased into the air, and took the quaffle in one hand. He then done two showboating spins and knocked the quaffle nicely into the centre of the middle hoop with the end of his broomstick.

"You're new chaser." Harry said in disbelief.

"Great!" Collin walked away, struggling to contain his excitement, and stopped when he 'thought' no-one could see him and jumped happily into the air. Harry looked awkwardly, firstly, at Ron and then up into the heavens.

The next to go was Shawn. Harry had no idea what to expect; secretly he hoped that he would fall flat on his face. Harry chuckled loudly to himself.

There was a chorus of 'ooohhs' as Shawn mounted his beautiful broomstick. It was a deep red, the branch end shone the light as sparkles that could hypnotise any who stood near it.

"What is it?" Harry whispered in Ron's ear.

"Are you kidding me?" Ron ran excitedly up to the broomstick and stroked the end admiringly. "This is the new Firebolt mark 2. This must have set you back a few hundred galleons."

"Nah." Shawn replied and Harry was sure he saw him yet again looking nervously down at something in his hand.

"Lets get on with it then!" Harry mumbled, a scent of envy creeping silently into his voice.

Shawn flew easily into the air on his amazing broomstick. Harry may not have been sure about Shawn, but he definitely liked that broom (he made a mental note to himself one at the next opportunity.)

Shawn cruised through all of the tests, even the outrageous ones Harry was giving him (scoring ten goals in thirty seconds for example.)

That was amazing!" Ron exclaimed as Shawn jumped proudly to the ground and strolled coolly up to them. "You are definitely new chaser." Harry didn't like the idea of Shawn being on the team, but made no protest.

"Cool." Shawn punched his fist into the air in celebration and retreated back to the changing rooms.

"Okay, now we only need two beaters." Harry looked up to find that the once endlessly line, now only consisted of two small, twin girls. Harry sighed, loudly.

"Lets see what you can do then."

The two girls reached for the two sticks that resembled baseball bats lying on the ground and held them steady in two hands. Harry released one of the struggling bludgers, and the nearest girl immediately batted it across the school grounds. The ball then careered upwards, before returning straight back towards Harry's unsuspecting face. The other girl hit the ball, just as hard, but this time on the return journey Harry wrestled it to the ground, and managed to close the case on the unhappy bludger.

"What are your names?" He asked.

"Imogen and Emma Jackson." They both said in unison.

"You are going to make great Gryffindor beaters."

Imogen and Emma skipped away cheerfully and Harry called Ginny, Ron and the spectator, Hermione over.

"What do you think?"

"Great! We're on course for winning another cup." Ginny and Ron smiled, all the while releasing a strong vibe of optimism, and everyone looked down at the team sheet.

Gryffindor Quidditch Team

Seeker: Harry Potter

Keeper: Ron Weasley

Chasers: Shawn Riddle, Ginny Weasley, Collin Creevey

Beaters: Emma Jackson, Imogen Jackson

"Why can't I share your enthusiasm?" The always sceptical Harry said glumly.