The Heir Chapter 8: Quidditch, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. Thanks, Treck, for your review. I believe this is the longest chapter so far, though the next two are even longer.

The Heir

Chapter 7

Quidditch

Harry decided to set up Quidditch tryouts for Friday. The only player they would be losing was Katie. She would be a lot of trouble replacing. There were twenty people there to try out when Friday came, but it seemed the whole of Gryffindor House was there to watch the proceedings. Harry split them up into teams of five and had them run drills. Harry watched as no one from the first two teams could complete a pass. The third team completed one, before one of their players got hit with a bludger and two of their others fell off their brooms in shock.

The fourth team was made up of four shaky second and third years and Thomas. He did well. Very well. He caught a rather wobbly pass that had been thrown behind his back, dodged two well aimed bludgers from Beaters Coote and Peakes, and dodged Ginny, who was playing defense, by doing a sloth roll and going underneath her. He faked Ron out by acting like he was going to his left, then his right, then spinning around and scoring, while looking in the opposite direction. "Now that's impressive," remarked Demelza Robins. Harry had to agree.

"Alright, lineups will be posted tomorrow. The first practice will be Monday. Good luck to all of you." The word in the stands seemed to echo Harry's thoughts.

"Did you see that?"

"I've been to professional games all my life, and I've never seen a goal shot backwards."

"They might as well give us the cup. We've got the best seeker in Hogwarts' history and two chasers that could go on to play for England tomorrow." Harry smiled at the voices. They were absolutely right. This year, the Cup had their name on it.

"Hey, Harry." It was Thomas. "I don't think I played too shabby. What do you think?" A small amount of sweat was dripping from his forehead, though this was the only sign that he was tired at all.

"To be honest Thomas, that was the best playing I've ever seen. I'm still trying to figure out how you made that goal."

"Just a little trick I was able to pick up from Holden. He's playing chaser for Slytherin this year. They had their tryouts yesterday." Harry's heart sank into his stomach.

"Hol-Holden? He plays Quidditch?"

"Oh, yeah, he's awesome. He beat his own record for goals scored in a game at Marleaux last year. Thirty-seven, can you believe it?" He was smiling, but Harry felt like he was going to vomit. And so he did

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"Thirty-seven? That's impossible. How long was the game?"

"An hour and a half. His team won 540 to zero." Ron cursed loudly. The entire Gryffindor common room was shaking its head. That seemed impossible. "Our only hope is that every team they play can catch the snitch before he gets the score up too high." Everyone was silent. Thomas was shocked that Quidditch was this important to them.

"Come on, people. We're in the middle of a war. Don't you have something better to think about than Quidditch?" Everyone just kind of sat there, looking gloomy. "Anyway, Harry, it's late. I'm going to bed and you should follow." He leaned in close. "Slytherin is having their first practice at 8 o' clock, tomorrow morning. We should go watch."

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Harry, Thomas, and Ron awoke at 7:15 the next morning. They met Hermione, Ginny, and Gabrielle for an early breakfast. They got to the Great Hall to find that they were alone except for, of course, the Slytherin Quidditch team. They were donned in their green Quidditch robes, looking as menacing as ever. Holden saw them sit down, and walked over, taking a seat beside Gabrielle.

"Come to watch the team that is going to win the Quidditch Cup?" His smirk had its usual sinister quality. "I guess Thomas has told you of some of our Quidditch exploits." No one answered him. "Do you play Quidditch?" he asked Gabrielle conversationally.

"No, I never 'ave bin very good." She seemed kind of lost for words. Harry wondered briefly who was supposed to be the Veela, Holden or Gabrielle. Gabrielle was usually a pretty outgoing person, but when Holden was around she clammed up. "She's probably intimidated," Harry told himself silently.

"Well that never stopped Thomas from playing," he laughed darkly. "Well, I guess I will see you all on the pitch." He jogged off to where the rest of the team was retreating through the door.

Thomas was the first to rise from the table. "Let's go. Ron, bring the toast. And the bacon. And the eggs, no, fine, I'll take the eggs." Harry laughed at Thomas' antics. He was always good for a laugh. Just like Holden was always good for a scare.

They reached the Quidditch pitch as the Captain, Urquhart, led the team in the usual pre-practice warm-ups. Holden went through all the drills with ease, but there was nothing really impressive about him. Uruqhart split the teams into a three-on-three match up, with two chasers and a keeper and himself playing referee. Holden lined up in the center, Crabbe behind him and Goyle playing Keeper. He was lined up against Vaisey, who was on a team with Harper, the Seeker who had replaced Malfoy, and a thin fourth year named Alexander Kapp who played Keeper. Uruqhart threw the ball into the air in between Vaisey and Holden. What happened next could only be described, well, as magic.

Holden flew up after the Quaffle and slammed it with his hands, as one would a volleyball, amazing considering the density of the Quaffle. The Quaffle flew into the air, over the heads of all the other players. Holden hesitated a moment or two, and then took off. He stopped about fifteen meters away from the hoop and stopped. The Quaffle landed perfectly in his chest. He forced his broom to roll forward, which Harry had never seen done before, and when he was right-side up, with all of that force behind him, threw the Quaffle with all his might towards the center hoop. It was comparable to the technique one would use when throwing a shot-put, spinning to concentrate all of your energy. Kapp was waiting for it, but it had so much power behind it that when the Quaffle hit him squarely in the chest, it forced him to go through the center hoop with it. Beside Harry, Ron gulped. Hermione put an arm around him for support. Thomas was smiling and humming to himself, oblivious to the outside world.

Uruqhart blew his whistle and they lined up in the same formation as before. He threw the Quaffle into the air. This time, Holden let it fall into Vaisey's hands. The moment Vaisey touched it, however, he was knocked off his broom by, who else, Holden. Holden caught the Quaffle with his left hand and pointed his wand at Vaisey with his right, yelling "Wingardium leviosa." He gently placed Vaisey on the ground while making a pass to Crabbe over his shoulder without looking. Crabbe, amazingly, caught it and started down the pitch. Once Vaisey was safely on the ground, Holden took off. He pushed Harper out of his way and motioned for Crabbe to throw him the Quaffle. He caught it and threw it, one handed, through the left hoop. Kapp never even saw it coming. Uruqhart blew his whistle again. He was smiling widely. This was the best team Slytherin had put together in years, even without Holden; with Holden, they would have a pretty good shot in a game against England.

"Alright, Holden, we'll give you a challenge; how does six on one sound?"

"I thought you said you were giving me a challenge?" The Slytherins guffawed appreciatively, which was odd, since he was making fun of them. Thomas laughed loudly with them. He had somehow acquired popcorn, God only knows from where, and was acting like a five year old watching a good movie.

Kaisey was lined up at Chaser again, but Crabbe and Goyle had retrieved their bats, and looked ready to kill. Uruqhart threw the Quaffle high in the air. Holden zoomed up and caught it. He evaded Kaisey, stiff-armed Harper in the chest, did a sloth roll under Uruqhart, dodged bludgers sent by Crabbe and Goyle, and got the Quaffle past Kapp. It had taken all of seven seconds for him to get by an entire team.

As the Slytherins walked by Harry and the others, they did not make any rude comments or hand gestures, as they would have normally. They just looked at them and bust out laughing. This was going to be a rough year.

Holden caught up with the rest. He was barely sweating, even though he had just gone through an hour of Quidditch practice. He was smiling and slightly out of breath. "So, what do you think?" Harry, Ron, and Ginny jus cast him dark looks, but Gabrielle spoke up.

"Where deed you learn to fly like t'at?"

"Mississippi is known for producing good athletes. I just happen to be one of the better ones." Gabrielle snorted. Holden laughed. "Are you finished with that essay on Binding Jinxes?"

"Oh, yes, eet was too easy." They shared another laugh.

"Gabrielle here is the best student in her year. I believe she might eventually even surpass you Potter." Harry nodded, not really listening. He was too busy trying to find a hex to put on Holden. One that lasted just long enough for him to be out for the rest of the Quidditch season. "Speaking of which, Potter, our lessons began at six, do not forget."

He walked back in the other direction towards the locker room. Ginny must have sensed Harry's anger, for she placed a loving hand on his back and leaned in close to whisper "Don't worry, Harry. I'll make sure to knock him off his broom." Harry had to smile at her words.

The rest of Harry's day was spent with Ron, Ginny, and Thomas, going over Quidditch plays, trying to figure out someway that they would be able to stop Holden in their first game of the season. Every plan they had, however, was thwarted by Thomas.

Ron had first suggested double-teaming Holden, but Thomas had shot that down. "They tried that back in third year. He just broke through the double teams. Scored eighteen goals in a 45-minute game." Ginny had then suggested triple teaming. "Well, when they did that two years ago it kind of worked. He only scored five goals. But he had twenty-seven assists. Another school record." Harry had suggested just putting the beaters in his way, like using them as extra chasers. "Fifth year. The biggest game of the season against Trippleton, the rival school in Tennessee. Our beaters didn't have to worry about blocking hits from the other teams beaters. Knocked out two of the chasers, both beaters, and the seeker. And Holden still scored six times and had eight assists."

"Good god, Thomas, has anyone been able to stop him?"

"Him, yes, but that's the thing about Holden. He's amazing, and he realizes he's amazing, but when he gets in the game, he is not a ball hog. Anyway, we ought to go see Holden before supper. Retard. Assigned essays to all of his classes, and now he has to grade 'em. He told me he would be busy all the way till supper. Probably past. I figure we should go help him, Harry, if you're going to do these extra lessons."

On the inside, Harry groaned, but agreed. Hermione volunteered herself and Ron to help as well. "Why didn't he just use a grading charm? That's what the rest of the teachers do," Ginny asked. Thomas' eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't know. I kinda wondered the same thing." They walked on towards Holden's office, talking of Quidditch and classes. When they got close, however, something made them all stop in their tracks.

Their was music coming from down the hall. Harry had never heard anything like it. It had a hint of Mexican flavor, but was mostly like the music Harry had heard was called "country." Thomas' eyes were wide in shock. He exchanged a bewildered glance with Harry. He, apparently, did not know what was going on either. The group slowly crept forward, and as they did, the words came through loud and clear:

I don't want to be the kind to hesitate,
Be too shy, wait too late
I don't care what they say other lovers do,
I just want to dance with you.

I gotta feeling that you have a heart like mine,
So let it show, let it shine.
If we have a chance to make one heart of two,
I just want to dance with you.

Ginny grabbed Harry and they started to dance, laughing at how stupid this song was. How anyone could actually listen to this was beyond him. Ron's mouth was hanging open slightly. Hermione was trying to suppress the giggles that were causing her to shake slightly. Thomas was not trying to suppress anything. He was laughing his head off, rolling all over the floor.

I want to dance with you, twirl you all around the floor
That's what they intended dancin' for,
I just want to dance with you.
I want to dance with you, hold you in my arms once more,
That's what they invented dancin' for,
I just want to dance with you.

Thomas got to his feet and slowly tiptoed toward the open door. He peeked into the classroom and jumped back immediately. He slumped up against the wall in another silent fit of laughter. He motioned for Harry and the others to come towards him.

I caught you lookin' at me when I looked at you,
Yes I did, ain't that true?
You won't get embarrassed by the things I do,
I just want to dance with you.
He pointed towards the door and mouthed "Holden's busy, alright." Harry looked into the open doorway. He would never forget what he saw.

Oh the boys are playin' softly and the girls are too,
So am I and so are you.
If this was a movie, we'd be right on cue,
I just want to dance with you.

Holden, hunter of Dark wizards, torturer of Snape, the second-scariest man on the planet, was dancing with Gabrielle Delacour. Beside him Ginny was in a fit of giggles. She grabbed his hand and they walked off to supper, the others following behind, either shocked or laughing. Thomas was muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "blackmail."

I just want to dance with you,
I just want to dance with you,
I just want to dance with you.
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Now review. If you can hear the sound of my voice, go away. Then review.