She and Charlie were among the flood of students on their way to the Great Hall when they heard a woman calling, "Miss Reswyck, Mr. Weasley!"
Quinn turned and saw her Head of House.
"A word," she said, approaching them.
"Sure," Quinn answered as she and Charlie stopped.
"Mr. Weasley, you'll be pleased to know you are, once again, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain," And, adressing his captain pin in place on his robes, she observed, smiling, "I see you've anticipated this. I will inform you when trials will be held as soon as I have word. Now, if i may speak with Miss Reswyck..?"
Charlie got the point, giving a nod before heading off.
"In past years, your marks have been impressive to say the least. As you know, as a sixth year one is eligable to take on the task of tutoring other students. I believe you are a qualified candidate for this responsibility, that is, if you would be willing to add this to what I'm sure is an already busy schedule this term,"
"Well, alright, I don't see why not," she agreed.
"Excellent- it won't be more than twice a week for perhaps an hour each session- held, of course, in the library."
Quinn gave a nod and was about to walk off when she heard McGonagall add, "And, I feel greatly inclined to ask.. how do you feel the team will do this term? I hope you've all been practicing over the break,"
"Oh, yes," she answered promptly, "At least, I have. I'm sure the others have as well. Our season should go very well. Charlie's certainly driven on a mission, we're quite determined to win, he and I both,"
McGonagall's eyes softened as she said, "I know you care deeply about the team, Ms. Reswyck. Even if you'e not the captain, it's easy to see,"
"It's fine, really. I care more about the victory than who leads us to it," she assured her professor. It was true; though truth also lied with the fact that when Charlie had first been made captain, years ago, she had experienced a slight bit of envy. However, she had now grown used to it. What's more, he came to her often asking what she thought of a play or to reccomend some drills the team needed for the next practice. More or less, Charlie and Quinn ran the team together.
"There's a very mature mindset. Good for you, Miss Reswyck." she said briskly. "Before it slips my mind, the password now is 'audeamus'. Best you be heading to your table; the Feast will begin any moment. I'll keep you posted on times for your tutoring," McGonagall promised, motioning toward the Great Hall.
As Quinn began walking, she realized Abigail Harris, who had apparently overheard McGonagall's last statement, was beside her.
"Getting tutoring, Nimbus?" That was how she would constantly refer to Quinn, meant to be a slight in some way, though it really didn't bother her in the least. "It'd be a shame if you were chucked off the team for less than satisfactory marks," said the snooty Ravenclaw. She herself was one of the most intelligent girls in their year and more often than not had some witty comment to make. She always had an opinion and always shared it.
"Giving it, Harris," Quinn replied shortly.
Abigail seemed to be kind to everyone, save Quinn and a few others who played Quidditch. She wasnt the scheming type; she was above that. Quinn had seen her during Quiddtich matches sitting with a notepad and quill, contantly scribbling; when she wasn't writing, her hawk eyes didn't leave the action of the match. Taking notes on the competition. It was known that Abigail also had the uncanny talent of analyzing Quidditch plays as well as pepping her team. Owen was captain, though, because of his superior skill playing. Abigail never seemed to outwardly resent him, but it was rumored she deeply envied him it.
There existed an unspoken rivalry between the two girls; both were talented Chasers. And unlike Owen, a Chaser with whom Quinn shared a warm friendship, Abigail resented most anyone who posed a threat to her being the undoubtable best- at anything and everything. She was a perfectionist to the very end; it could be said that was the case with Quinn as well, but to the extent really only of Quidditch and her schoolwork. With Abagail perfection dominated every aspect of her life.
Presently the Ravenclaw was saying, "Hmm, juggling Quidditch trials, then practice and matches- don't give me that look, we both know you're a lock on Weasley's team, Nimbus. Then mountains of school work, what passes for your social life.. how will you manage teaching elementary charms to a few kids who'll probably fail anyway?"
"With great effort and even better results, I'm sure. Thank you for your sincere concern," Quinn left her to walk to her own table, finding Charlie and sitting. To her left was Jane Donnason, her fellow sixth year Chaser and dear friend with whom she began catching up as the rest of the school streamed in.
The Great Hall was set for the annual start of the term feast; the thick candles overhead were ablaze, the professors were situated at the head table, the floor was freshly scrubbed, the sun had just dipped beneath the horizon beyond the tall stained glass windows, and every student from second to seventh year was having a good time chatting with friends.
Before long, Oliver Wood, the Quidditch eccentric third year, joined them.
"Hey guys," he greeted them.
"Hi, Oliver. Have a nice summer?" inquired Quinn.
"Sure did. So are you guys as excited for this season as I am?" he looked right at Charlie, "When will tryouts be? I've been practicing; I'm so ready!"
"Well, not for a week or two, I'd say," answered Charlie, scratching his head. "McGonagall said she'd let me know,
"Can't wait. I worked on my left side, like you said," he replied. Last year Oliver had been the team's keeper; he'd done a pretty excellent job for a second year. Quinn didn't doubt that he'd spent each and every spare second on his broom the past two and a half months. He would probably be quite a bit improved this year.
"Good," Charlie smiled. "I'm sure it'll all go well,"
McGonagall took center stage, calling in the firsties. They were paraded inside in a single file line, some frightened, some excited, but most simply in awe.
Students were called forward alphabetically to be sorted until finally 'Reswyck, Calvin" was reached.
Her little brother raced up, tossed the sorting hat on. Calvin had never really specified which House he'd most like to be in, but Quinn strongly assumed it would Gryffindor, or perhaps Hufflepuff. When the Hat declared its decision Quinn thought for certain she had misheard. There had been a mistake, a terrible mistake.
"Slytherin!"
The Slytherin table erupted in cheers. A few Gryffindors gave a low boo before Charlie shot them a heated look and they piped down. Quinn only watched him walk over and sit. He was smiling, he didnt seem upset in the least. Beside him was the boy he had met in Diagon Alley, laughing with and congratulating Calvin. Quinn felt strong resentment toward the boy. Had a couple conversations with him swayed her brother more than an entire life living with a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw? True, which House a student wanted was not a sole determining factor, but it counted for something.
"You alright, Quinn?" asked Charlie sympethetically.
"Yes... I just don't understand," she said, turning away from the Calvin, redirecting her gaze at McGonagall, watching mechanically as the remaining firsties were sorted.
"It'll be fine. He's a good kid; I'm sure not every single Slytherin is concentrated evil. There have been a couple civil ones. Plus, Calvin's good at making friends. Who's to say he won't make any in other Houses?" she heard Charlie say optimistically.
Easy for you to say, all your siblings have been in Gryffindor, she thought sadly before it occured to her she was probably overreacting. It wasn't that big a deal, really. She would just think of a way to keep an eye on him.
Dumbledore was next to rise, welcoming everyone back and wishing all a safe and prosperous term. After he was done speaking, food appeared on the table. Platter after platter filled with slow-roasted chicken, steaming dressed vegetables, thick buttery mashed potatoes, soft, golden brown rolls, a rainbow of fresh fruit, and much more. As always the delicious course was perfectly prepared.
For dessert the large ornate bowls filled with dark, creamy pudding, sweet nutty ice cream, and any kind of powdery baked confection. When she looked at Charlie beside her, she couldn't supress a laugh.
He had powdered sugar all around his mouth and cheeks. Quinn handed him a napkin, saying, "Even though Santa Clause is a nice look for you,"
He smirked. "Thank-you, Quinn," Charlie wiped his mouth clean before saying, "I think you missed some on yours, though," and flicked some of the sugar from his hands onto her face. She laughed and was about to retaliate when a pale finger touched her shoulder. She looked up and her mood sunk.
"Playing with your food and causing a rucous. Ten points from Gryffindor, Reswyck, as well as you, Weasley," scowled Professor Snape, the only professor known to deduct points for having a bit of fun.
"Yes, sir," they grumbled.
He gave her a look, then added, "I should hope your brother will not prove as coltish as his sister. I don't tolerate riff-raff in my House,"
Snape proceeded to exit the Great Hall.
"Could have fooled me," muttered Charlie. "Over-sized bat."
Snape, who was about thirty feet away, spun around, and for a moment it seemed he had heard Charlie, who instantly dropped his head and filled his mouth with a glob of pudding. Quinn looked on, seeing that it was only a student calling him, handing him a rolled parchment, which Snape snatched before really taking his leave.
"He didn't hear," Quinn told him.
He sighed with relief. "But you know, I wish someone would tell him off,"
"If he reminds me one more time about Calvin, I might just-" started Quinn.
"Careful, there. Don't do something you might regret," warned Charlie.
"Yeah, don't sweat it Quinn." added Jane, comforting her, an arm around her friend's shoulder. "If you'd like I'll come with you to check on him when we're all dismissed."
"Thanks, Jane." said Quinn.
And so, when the meal concluded and the time came, Quinn, accompanied by Jane, made to approach Calvin as he was walking out.
"Calvin," she said.
"Quinn! Hi, Jane. It's so neat here!" exclaimed Calvin, all enthusiasm.
Quinn smiled. "Yes, it is. What do you think of your House?"
"I like it well enough," he answered.
"Reswyck," said a voice. Both Quinn and Calvin looked at the source; the boy was adressing Quinn.
"If you don't mind, I have this first year to escort to his dormatory. I assume you have your own as well?" said John Montague, his ams folded.
Quinn supressed an eyeroll. "He's my brother, we're free to speak to each other whenever we choose." she turned to Calvin, and said more warmly, "But he's right, I do have first years of my own to escort. Have a good time and be yourself... if someone's doing something that you don't agree with, don't follow suit. Remember to be respectful and kind and chivilrous and br-" she had begun rattling off her own House's traits without noticing. "I'll see you soon,"