"Remind me again how you—a Muggle—are going to play Quidditch," Harry demanded, disbelieving. "Magical brooms won't fly without a witch or wizard directing it."
"Do I really have to show you again?" Ethan complained. When Harry didn't answer him, Ethan stopped. He laid his broom, a Nimbus 2000, across the palms of his hands. With only a thought, Ethan willed the broom to rise slowly. Harry watched Ethan move the broom through the air, spinning, spiraling, and finally dive-bombing Harry, stopping less than a centimeter from the Chosen One's face.
"Nice show," Harry commented, smiling. "But you still haven't proved you can ride it!" Harry mounted the Firebolt he'd been carrying over his shoulder and took off, hovering just about Ethan's head.
"Quit showing off!" Ethan yanked hard on Harry's leg, causing boy and broom to come crashing into the ground. "You and I will both see if I can ride that flying stick in a few minutes."
"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, his expression one of mock indignation. "I rode a Nimbus 2000 for three years, you know. Don't diss the Nimbus."
The two boys continued walking to the Quidditch pitch; Ron had gone on alone, looking slightly green in the face. Harry had explained that Ron was just suffering from nerves, but Ethan knew this already, having read all of the Harry Potter books. What's more, Ethan understood Ron's nervousness; his own stomach felt as if it was deciding whether or not breakfast was really worth keeping down.
While they walked, the boys discussed their teachers and classes. Ethan had been put into the same classes as Harry and Ron, except that they had an extra free period while Ethan was taking Muggle Studies.
"Can you believe the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is a squib?" Harry asked, laughing. "Although he really did pick on you a lot, Ethan. Professor Carter is just as bad to you as Snape used to be to me!"
"Yeah," Ethan agreed. "Carter and I go way back."
Harry stopped walking right before they could enter the pitch, looking strangely at Ethan. "How many of you are protecting me?" he asked Ethan uncertainly.
"All of the Named—the most elite soldiers in the Guard—are here," Ethan whispered, not wanting to be heard by anyone. "Well, not everyone," he amended. "We haven't found all nine of the Named mentioned in the Prophecy—our prophecy, not yours. There's me, Isabel, and Rochelle… Matt's even here, too; he's that new kid in Ravenclaw… Jimmy's working for Fred and George at their Hogsmeade branch of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes… Shaun—my dad—is 'helping Madame Rosmerta' at the Three Broomsticks… Carter's our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher… and Arkarian's taken Stan Shunpike's place on the Knight Bus, so we can make a quick escape if we really need to."
Before Harry could ask any more questions, Ethan entered the Quidditch pitch. Harry followed him but then took a step back; the pitch was filled with people! It was almost as if there was an actual game today… Harry racked his mind, trying to figure out if he'd confused "try-outs" with "first game of the season"… no, there was no way he could have made that mistake!
Harry shook his head, remembering the Quidditch try-outs from last year. Determined not to shout himself hoarse this time, Harry took his own wand and, aiming it at his throat, muttered, "Sonorus!" When he next opened his mouth to speak, his voice was magnified so that everyone in the stadium could hear him; next to him, Ethan bent over double trying to cover his ears. "These are the try-outs for the Gryffindor Quidditch team!" Harry said authoritatively. "If you are a first-year or in a house other than Gryffindor, please leave now!" A couple of people left the stands, but not many. "NOW!" Harry demanded, his magnified voice probably carrying all the way back to the castle. Almost everyone left, except for a handful of people. "That's more like it," Harry said, and then remembered that his voice was still magnified. "Quietus."
The remaining participants for the try-outs gathered around Harry, who directed them to get into groups: the Keepers sat in the Ravenclaw stands, Beaters in Hufflepuff seats, and Chasers in the Gryffindor stands; no one wanted to sit in the Slytherin seats for fear of jinxing their chances of making it onto the Gryffindor team. Harry had to send some hopeful Seekers back to the common room; there was no way he was going to give up his post, especially since this was his last year at Hogwarts.
I'm the last member of my original team left, Harry realized, motioning for the Chasers to take the field. Harry told them to fly into a circle shape; grabbing the Quaffle, Harry flew up to join them. He passed the Quaffle to the Chaser candidate on his immediate right—and was surprised to see Ethan up in the air, looking as if he was born on the broom he was flying. No, Harry thought. That's not right. He's not flying the broom; he's animating it.
"I want you to pass the Quaffle to each other until I tell you to stop," Harry instructed. "Pass to anyone but the person directly across from you, and try not to make a pattern out of it. Remember: these are try-outs. You're here because you want to be on the team. Don't just toss the Quaffle back and forth; make it challenging for everyone."
The Chasers passed the Quaffle to each other rather aggressively for the next fifteen minutes. Harry noticed that the one player who seemed to catch the ball with the least amount of effort—and every time, too—was Ethan. Sometimes Harry would swear the ball would curve to fly straight towards Ethan. Even Ginny, brilliant as she was when it came to Quidditch, couldn't catch the Quaffle as skillfully as Ethan could. Ethan could also throw the Quaffle at anyone, with accuracy and force.
Harry chose his three Chasers: Ginny, Ethan, and Dean Thomas, who had done well when he had temporarily replaced Katie Bell last year. Harry sent the Chasers who hadn't qualified back to the common room and asked his new teammates to stay on the field for Keeper try-outs.
The Keepers were amazingly pathetic. Harry knew that this year there would be no need for Hermione to confund anyone for Ron this year; these were all the same people who had tried out for the Keeper position last year. There were no hopeful second-years. The only Keeper who had any talent at all was Ron, who managed to block every shot that even Ethan sent out at him. Then again, Harry thought, it was mostly Ethan's shots that the other Keepers had trouble with… Harry just shrugged, telling himself half-heartedly that it was just Ron's superior skill at Quidditch that made him save every shot. Ron returned to the team as well, turning to fly back to the stands to sit with Ginny, Ethan, and Dean.
It was then that Harry realized that he had just put together the beginning of one of the worst teams in history. Sure, each one of those people was the best at what they could do, but it was something else that put this team's chances of success in jeopardy:
Ron and Ethan were on the team. Ethan was supposedly dating Hermione, making a show out of it by holding her hand, sitting with her at every opportunity, and always looking at her. He was the stereotype of any girl's dream boyfriend. On the other hand, Harry knew that Ron had a problem with the whole Ethan-Hermione thing; Ron had a crush on Hermione. It wasn't a big secret; pretty much the whole school knew that Ron liked Hermione despite his "new girlfriend." Harry hoped that Ron would be able to bear having Ethan on the team.
The other major flaw in the team was the combination of Ginny, Dean, and Harry himself. Ginny and Dean used to be dating, but their relationship had ended on bad terms. Harry didn't know if Dean was still mad at Ginny for dumping him, or mad at Harry for going after Ginny soon after Ginny and Dean had broken up. And it was very awkward for Harry to be with Ginny because they both still had feelings for each other, still wanted to be in a relationship together. And Harry had no idea how Ginny was going to take the news of Harry's "new girlfriend." One thing was for sure: Harry couldn't let Ginny near Isabel if Ginny had a wand handy.
Shaking his head at his own stupidity, Harry gestured for the Beaters to come forward. Harry set up targets—little cardboard figures that looked remarkably like Malfoy in his Slytherin Quidditch robes—and released one of the bludgers, telling the first contestant to go and take a whack at the first target.
The first Malfoy got away without a scratch. The second Malfoy got blasted to shreds; Harry immediately put the second-year who had knocked it out onto the team. Malfoy's numbers 3, 4, and 5 got little bits knocked off of them. The sixth Malfoy escaped harm. The seventh Malfoy didn't get hit by the bludger, but the Beater, in a fit of disappointment, sent a Diffindo charm to blast it to shreds. This brilliant idea delighted Harry so much that he decided to use the Diffindo charm to blast the smithereens out of the Malfoy's that had managed to survive their brushes with the bludger. This left only three Malfoy's left, only one of which was destroyed by a bludger. The fourth-year who hit it was immediately enlisted.
Harry looked at his new team, feeling slightly apprehensive. He had no worries about his two beaters; the second-year boy, Carlin Batidor, and the fourth-year girl, Iolana Eleva, had earned their positions on the team. It was the rest of the team that had him worried.
As long as the ones I'm worried about aren't the ones wielding bludger-whacking clubs, Harry thought to himself, I think I'll be okay. I hope so anyway…
Harry trained the new team for a bit, just to see how everyone worked together. Besides the fact that Dean seemed determined to never pass the Quaffle to Ginny, and Ginny's tendency to "accidentally" run into Harry—had she heard about Isabel already?—and Ron's sudden resolve to block as many of Ethan's shots as possible—which wasn't many—Harry thought the team fit well.
Who am I kidding? Harry thought. This whole Guardians of Time thing is messing up my last year at Hogwarts!