Ch. 17- Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff
Ravenclaw Tower was a place of decorum. It was a place for focus, concentration, learning, diligence. It was a place for private learning experiments and relaxation and recuperating from the many annoyances of dealing with the inferior intellects of the other Houses all day long.
It most certainly was not a place for a party.
But nobody had taken the time to tell that to Zoey Malam.
The transfer student had decorated their common area with a fervor, putting up fake cobwebs and bubbling cauldrons, filling the room with some kind of mist, ruining the tower's innocuous peace. She had music blasting through the room, too, so there was no quiet. There was color-changing lights pointing at little tissue ghosts that hung from the ceiling, making concentration difficult, and a table full of colored masks.
The biggest change though was the circle of tables between the center fireplace and the rest of the room. There were four or five pumpkins on each table, a few aprons, and sets of extremely sharp looking knives. There were also a mounds of pumpkins pressed against bookshelves and taking up a few couches, easily enough for every Ravenclaw to carve at least two each for the holiday. A number of students had already started.
Lysander Scamander, as had many of his housemates before him, stopped dead at the sight of his common room when he returned to it, finding it almost more orange than the standard blue or bronze. There were plastic sheets over the carpet to catch pumpkin guts and, he sniffed a bit, the smoke tasted like pumpkin. He wondered if it was from the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Vroom Broom package.
"Sandy!" Zoey cried, waving at him from the table where she was working. Her hair was a more vibrant orange as the pumpkin she was carving.
Lysander rolled his eyes to the ceiling, but had to admit the nickname was starting to grow on him- more like a leech he couldn't pull out rather than affection, but growing nonetheless. He took off his shoes and left them in the pile by the door, giving the tables a wide girth as he moved to stand behind Zoey. "I take it you enjoy Halloween, then?"
"I love Halloween!" Zoey grinned, getting down from the stepping stool she'd been using to carve her pumpkin easier. "Doesn't everyone?"
"It's kind of hard not to," Lysander pointed out, remembering that was her response to his question months ago about whether she was a quidditch fan. In wizarding society, he supposed, quidditch and Halloween was mandatory.
"Is there a pumpkin carving contest? I got us some just in case- you should make one, Sandy. Micheal!" She suddenly scolded down the table in a tone too serious for the situation. "No magic, you know that!"
The boy in question jumped in shock, then smiled abashedly as he put his wand away and gingerly picked up one of the large knives. Zoey looked at him warningly a few more seconds, then she turned back to Lysander with a smile. It figured that Zoey Malam would get so serious about celebrating a Holiday properly.
"Do wizards celebrate differently than muggles? What's your version of Halloween?" She drew in a hissing breath. "Ooooh is there going to be a party?"
Quite a few of the onlookers in Ravenclaw Tower smiled, her enthusiasm catching on. A few more people picked up aprons and started selecting pumpkins.
"Yes, there is a celebration." Lysander answered with the sinking feeling he was going to carve a pumpkin whether he really wanted to or not. "An official feast."
Zoey hadn't seemed to hear anything past the word 'celebration', literally jumping and spinning with excitement. "Perfect!" Quite a few people leaned away from the knife she was holding.
Lysander took it from her hands before she lost her grip on it and sent it flying into an eye or something, a sincere possibility since her were arms gooey up to her elbows with pumpkin guts. "What is this music, anyways? What is a …" he paused for a moment to listen. "A 'Monster Mash'?"
Zoey, and to his shock a few scattered people around the room, laughed with amusement. "Muggles imagine that werewolves and vampires and ghouls and ghosties and all the magical things get together for a big party on Halloween, so they wrote a song about it. It's tradition, I refuse to go beyond October 31st without re-memorizing every word."
"It's the twenty-fifth," Lysander said with that sinking feeling of dread once again.
"Yup!" She grinned, stepping up onto the stool to get back to work on her carving. "Six more days to go!"
"I don't understand," Roxanne Weasley hissed at her cousin in confusion as they got dressed in scarlet uniforms for their quidditch match, "Why do I have to ask him for it?"
Rose pulled at a strand of her hair nervously. Between the sounds of hundreds of students taking their places in the stands around them and the conversations of their teammates, it was practically a private conversation. Still, she kept her voice at a whisper just in case. "Because- well- if I asked I would have to explain what I want it for. If you do it, it's already pretty obvious."
"U-huh. James might buy that excuse, but not me." She folded her arms. "Spill. Are you two fighting or something?"
"Or something." Rose flushed uncomfortably, using her shoelaces as an excuse not to face her as she admitted "I kind of… might have… calledhimakidandsaidpeoplelaughathim."
Roxanne blinked and stared for all of about five seconds, then screeched "What!?"
"Shhhhh!" Rose put her hands over her cousin's mouth, smiling apologetically at their teammates. She hurriedly pulled Rox toward a corner of the locker room, hoping that nobody told James about what could be seen as pre-game drama. He detested that from his players.
"How could- why did- what were you thinking?" Roxanne stuttered, yanking the hands off her mouth. "You know he hates it when people call him a kid!"
"I wasn't!" Rose confessed, pulling at her hair again. "I was distracted and was talking about Zoey and-"
"Zoey? Wait wait wait- did you tell him what we know?"
"No! Al was being ridiculous and saying that Malfoy liked her, or something, just because the snake apparently laughed when she did one of her ridiculous stunts, so I said he was just laughing at her the way people do to him- or something like that…"
Under Rox's cold, piercing stare Rose turned a mortified red. Her words sounded even worse when she tried to explain them. Only after a few more minutes of silent shaming did her cousin speak again. "How much did he cry?"
"Weirdest thing," Rose murmured with a trace of awe. "He didn't. He just looked at me, then gave me a cold shoulder."
"...weird." Roxanne agreed, knowing that though nobody ever said it Albus Potter was indeed the crybaby of the Legacies, then she shrugged. "Well, if he didn't cry then he can't be all that upset about it."
Privately Rose disagreed, remembering the disappointment in his gaze, but she didn't share the notion.
Roxanne hummed distractedly, looking over a layout of their team's plays but doing a valiant job of trying to maintain the conversation even as she was obviously trying to get focused on the game. "Don't think you can avoid talking to him forever, Rose. You are in the same year. And House. And family…"
"I get it, Rox."
"Not to mention best friends."
"...Right." Rose said sadly, but knew that wasn't quite true anymore. Ever since Albus started distancing himself from the Gryffindors of the family he'd been shunning her too, and without him putting a stop to the silly stalemate with James she couldn't see how they could become friends the way they used to be. Merlin, she realized with a trace of awe, he wasn't even bugging her to help him with his schoolwork lately; how was he keeping up with any of his classes?
While Rose forlornly stewed in the repercussions of her mistake Roxanne picked up her bat and pulled her along for them to listen to James's pre-game speech. He took his duty as Quidditch Captain very seriously- much more seriously than any of his homework.
"Right," He said, looking at them like a drill sergeant. "Right, so- this is our first match of the year. Our victory will set the stage for us to launch the season. We're the best of the best- we will win the Quidditch Cup, and the best way to do that is to get as much of a lead as we can in our first game!"
"But it's a scrimmage," Evan, their Keeper, protested mildly. "It won't count for the cup."
"We're still going to treat this like a real game, and dominate the field today. Evan, your job is to stop them from getting any goals through the hoop. Adam, Melody, Ivaan," James looked at their three chasers, "score as much as you can to add to my lead when I catch the snitch. Rox, Edward, keep those damn bludgers out of our faces and in theirs. I don't want anybody getting injured in the time it takes for me to end the game."
"Thank you, James," Eddy, Roxanne's co-beater, said dryly, "For that wonderful summary of how to play quidditch." There was a light round of chuckles, to James's obvious displeasure, and he ushered his players to the field. The entire team walked up to their platform, and the Gryffindor house cheered for them.
Rose much preferred the game pitch to the practice one; it had been built eleven years ago to replace the once her parents had played on in their days at school. With two fields it was now possible for multiple teams to practice at a time, though the new one had much better seating and new raised platforms behind the hoops for the substitutes to wait on.
The necessity to keep an area for reserve players had arisen shortly after the Golden Trio had left Hogwarts at the end of the Second Wizarding War. Sarah Thomas, Hufflepuff Team Captain, had decided to use a well-worn and well-proven muggle strategy of having twice as many players on her team than could actually play on the field. Her magical teammates thought she was mental, but over her three years of captainship the result of her work was undebatable. Having a full set of opponents for practicing against as well as skilled members to fall back on when her players suffered from bludger attacks mid-season or foul play before a game (work of the Slytherins, no doubt) had helped her win the Quidditch Cup three years in a row. The other Captains had scrambled to match her strategy, and the overall quality of Quidditch Games at Hogwarts had improved as a result.
Though the reserves couldn't actually substitute mid-game according to the rules of quidditch- unless there was extremely mitigating circumstances and the captain of both teams agreed to it- the special platform was their recognition for their effort through the season. They settled down in their seats to watch the game from a viewpoint only second to the Faculty Box.
From a crowd perspective, people were more interested in the new cushioning spells of the Game Pitch and the weather charm- a recent invention by their very own Professor Padma, Head of Ravenclaw House- that would keep the environment around the viewing seats pleasant no matter what temperature or weather the players were subjected to. Rose knew she would be very jealous of that later in the season, as winter snows came and they played their finals in pouring April showers.
While James waved to the crowd Rose pulled Roxanne's sleeve. "So- about the Cloak-"
"Not now," her cousin chided as she mounted her broom for the match. "This is not the time to worry about plans, Rosie. I have a match to win."
She flew off, leaving Rose alone to worry. If she couldn't convince Rox to get the Invisibility Cloak, she would be the one that had to get it from Albus by Halloween night.
"J- Orion? Sir?" Zoey had to catch herself as she looked around the door to Jon's office, relieved to find it empty. Of all the little things to get caught doing that she wasn't supposed to be, calling Jonovan Malam Orion by his first name was probably one of the least problematic things but also the hardest habit for her to break.
She took another glance around the old office and amended her earlier thought- Jon's office was empty of people. Razputin was glaring moodily at her from his cage, still drying out from his bath. Zoey stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh stop looking at me like that, Raz. You practically live in mud, you have to take a bath at least every other week."
He just hissed and scratched at the door to his cage.
Zoey checked all four of the locks on the door to make sure he wouldn't escape and go find a mud hole. She hadn't suffered his spikes for an hour and put up with his moodiness for him to scurry off into literal mess by the end of the day.
Two of the them were open. She shook her head in amazement and relocked them, which earned her another hiss. "Escape artist." She accused with less fondness than usual before walking around Jon's desk, to the wall behind it.
She put her hand on the wall and closed her eyes, focusing. The brick beneath her palm heated and glowed like an ember, twitching a bit with distaste at what she was doing. Zoey immediately pulled back her magic a touch, knowing she'd been overeager to let it loose.
Her entire consciousness gathered on her fingers, feeling the enchantment in the stone. It tasted of layers of dust, old things and lost times. It held the memory of dozen, hundreds of people through the ages- and with a little touch Zoey was able to make those old images strengthen and mix into eachother until they merged and were so layered the enchantment it would open to anybody.
The surface of the bricks rippled from her palm like a it was a pebble on the surface of a pond, and they shifted and molded into a door the same make and style as the one into the office. The old rusted knob turned itself and opened inward to allow her entrance that no student was supposed to be granted.
Zoey lowered her left hand and shook it to get rid of the prickling sensation in her skin. She had no real idea how she was able to open an enchantment that was supposedly only detectable by the faculty and only manipulated by the Hogwarts Headmasters themselves, but she had long ago decided that it was useful anyways.
Besides, she shrugged as she stepped into the personal living quarters of the History of Magic Professor without hesitation, wizards didn't really seem to fully understand their relationship to magic either. Channeling their magic through sticks and dead animal bits somehow worked, she admitted, but when not one wandmaker had never explained why a rock or a leaf could conceptually work just as well, it showed that they didn't really understand it themselves.
Magic really wasn't meant to be logical, anyways.
Zoey paused and looked around, pursing her lips. "Now, if I was an annoying know it all who was more paranoid than a shrew, where would I put my Halloween stash?"
"Oh I don't know," Jon's voice answered out of seemingly nowhere, "Probably right next to my secret diary."
Zoey stopped immediately and listened harder until a sound soft and quiet as a mosquito made itself apparent. She turned and walked toward it at a corner of the room, reached forward until her hands felt something solid, then poked it.
Jonovan "umphed" as she prodded his stomach and dropped his invisibility, folding his arms. "Any reason you're craving candy, Zoe?"
"Um, Halloween? Trick Or Treat Time?" She said like it was obvious, but there was something in her eyes that Jon found easy to spot. More like a lack of a something, but he saw it all the same.
"Is that all?" He pushed in an inviting tone, wondering as always why she got so moody shortly before Halloween.
"No." Zoey told him and her jaw clenched, then she spun on the spot to inspect his bedroom for the aforementioned candy stash. "I'm going to a candy store in Hogsmeade after the match, and it's put me in the mood."
"Hogsmeade?" Jon raised an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't interested in going on your own to someplace new with inflated prices and places to get lost in?"
"I'm going with someone." Zoey said absentmindedly, her hopes rising and falling as she rummaged through his stuff. She picked up a box hidden under his bed, only to groan with disappointment as she recognized various computer parts. "Really? You're still going for this?"
"Yes." He ended the subject with ease so she couldn't distract him. "You're going 'with' someone to Hogsmeade? Is it a boy?" At her nod he felt his eyes narrow in suspicion. Zoey may be oblivious to the connotations of going to Hogsmeade as a pair with an opposite gender, but Jon certainly wasn't. "How well do you know him?"
"Hm? Oh, Albus is really sweet. He's gonna give me a tour of the place; his uncle owns one of the shops."
"Albus…?"
"Potter."
He searched his mind quickly and was calmed by what he found. Albus Potter. Middle child of three siblings. Same age as Zoey, sorted into the Gryffindors. Another one of the apparently many famous children here in Hogwarts but probably the one who was least affected on levels of egotism and neediness. Unlike his older brother- Jon searched his memory again for the name- James Potter, Albus did not have a questionable reputation of being a ladies man and if anything was seen as a sweet and kind person by the general student body.
From his own interactions with Albus, Jon realized boy's demeanor greatly reminded him of Zoey. He grudgingly admitted he didn't have much of a reason to try banning her from the trip.
Eventually Zoey gave up on her candy hunt and sat back on his bed with a huff, swinging her legs. Jon's room technically belonged the Professor Binns- but since he was a ghost with no actual need for the place while his very alive Assistant did, McGonagall had reassigned it to Orion. The furnishings hadn't been upgraded since probably around the 16th century, when things like legged wardrobes and chests a-la-pirate had been the popular storage means.
The bathroom hadn't even had a shower before the summer, something that had made Zoey laugh in amusement. The outdated faculty living quarters was a stark contrast to its primary occupant, who was as far of a forward-thinker as someone could possibly be.
She was brought out of her thoughts when she felt Jon's hand atop her head, and it took her a few minutes to realize what was happening. "Wait-" she jumped up and away on the cushion, frowning when she saw that her hair was once a new color, from a festive pumpkin orange to a turquoise blue-green. "You Jerk! I was trying to let it fade to natural!"
He held up his hands in defense and easily dodged the blow, frowning a bit. "What for? I thought you were cool with it."
Zoey picked up his pillow and threw it at him next. "Idiot! How do you think it would look for Elphaba to have hair like this? I'll be a green smurf!"
"Oooh is that the problem?" Jon grinned, letting the harmless projectile hit him, knowing his apathy to her actions would only irritate her more. "Why don't you just change it back then? Or, you know, let me do the skin."
Zoey growled under her breath and held a strand of hair in front of her eyes, focusing her magic on it. Try as she might though she knew she wouldn't be able to change her appearance with the ease of her friend; somehow, he just didn't seem to have the same limits on his powers that were on hers. After a minute she pulled it back into her usual ponytail, out of sight except for a pair of bangs that framed her face. "Maybe I should waste my time on hair colors instead of tutoring."
"Excuse you?" Jon intervened, unused to her saying something so pessimistic.
"You know, the tutoring sessions you presented to McGonagall using my name and my handwriting, so when she did me the 'favor' of mandating it to two of the more notable and watched students in school, I had to smile and say 'oh thank you, ma'am' because the alternative was telling her her newest faculty member had a habit of deception!"
Her words hung in the silence for a while, the topic once again driving them to tension. Jon was obviously not intending to apologize or regret his action ever, let alone anytime soon, and Zoey knew him too well to honestly expect him to. It had been a very poor attempt to dissuade the conversation, and Jon was having none of that. She groaned and set her face in her hands after a moment, shoulders slumping.
"I'm useless, okay? I can barely get the wand to do anything, let alone perform a single spell. One of my tutors thinks I'm incredibly gullible and the other practically has a conniption because of my 'complete, total idiocy' by the end of every session." Zoey was a cheerful person, but having Rose's disparaging words and Scorpius's looks of uncomprehending disappointment brandished at her for hours every week with no end in sight would have anyone in the dumps.
Jon's gaze darkened and his jaw clenched. "Which one?"
"Nope." Zoey sighed, knowing which one he was upset about. Jon quite openly believed her to be and called her 'gullible' quite frequently; she denied it of course, but then again she supposed that could be part of what made him right. "Never telling."
Jon tapped his fingers for a moment, then reached forward for her head again.
Predictably, Zoey squeaked and gripped his hand with both of hers to stop its progression. "Hey! What did I just-"
"Tell me. Or 'Elphaba' will have hair bubblegum pink."
"You can't- no! No no bad! Bad Jon!" Zoey barely ducked in time to avoid his attempt to catch her with his other hand and rolled off the bed, glaring at him. "Not telling."
"Bright pink. With polkadots on her skin."
She paled as she pictured the threat. "That is an insult to a Broadway character."
"She's older than Broadway. And I don't think she would completely reject zebra stripes, do you?"
Zoey stuck her tongue out at him, knowing he had the complete and total upper hand. "Fine. I'll tell you."
He raised an eyebrow at her expectantly.
"...After Halloween."
"Deal." He grunted approval of her stipulation. Now she could be relatively sure that she was safe from further blackmail related to her 'Elphaba' appearance.
Zoey was now on high alert to his presence and checking the time for her 'date', though Jon doubted she actually thought of it as that. He had work to do anyways and was about to wave her out the door when he was stuck with something. "Do you have money for the shops?"
She looked away uncomfortably and pulled a few sickles out of her pocket- her savings largely consisting of the small bets she made with people who underestimated her, like Hugo back in Transfiguration with the matches and needles. Though probably she could have made a great deal by taking advantage of their doubt of 'the transfer's' knowledge at the start of the year, she'd really done it more to make a point. Not for the first time she cursed the goblins at Gringotts.
Jon looked down his nose at the paltry sum, then walked over to his desk and opened a magically locked drawer with a wave of his hand. He pulled out a his wages so far this year and passed her a full purse of galleons big enough to cover her Hogsmeade trip and then some.
Zoey pushed it away uncomfortably when he tried to put the pouch in her hand. "Jon-"
"Take it." he iterated in a no-nonsense voice that promised deep regret in anyone who didn't abide by its wishes.
Zoey looked at him a moment, then rolled her eyes and reached in, taking out a handful of Galleons. "Compromise?"
"Sure." He smiled, knowing that if he hadn't flashed the large amount of money in her face first she never would have taken any at all. This was why she was gullible; she assumed that just because she made the final suggestion she came out of the exchange on her own terms.
He glanced at the clock. "You should get going."
"Yeah." Zoey nodded and went to the door, turning the handle and almost walking into it when it didn't open. She frowned and tugged harder, but it refused to budge under her touch. She set her hand on the wood again and sensed in an instant that her work on the enchantment had already worn off.
"Talk about a design flaw," she grumbled, but even she was unsure if she was talking about the stupid door that wouldn't let her open it without messing with century-old magic, or her own strange skill whose effect had an as-of-yet unknown duration. Sometimes it would continue to let her through for hours, and sometimes- like now- it would recover from her meddling within the span of a visit.
"I've got it." Jon offered and patted her head absentmindedly as he opened the door for her, making sure the coast was clear before pushing her in the back. "Go on. You don't want to make your boyfriend wait for your date."
She immediately blushed, protesting with the stubbornness of a child. "He's not my boyfriend."
"Ah. So it is a date, then?"
"Jon!" Zoey turned to set him straight, but he literally closed the door in her face. She rubbed her nose morosely as the wood turned back to stone, but was quickly distracted by the sight of Rasputin's empty cage. Not only was it empty, but in her reflection she saw that his casual touch had changed her hair color.
She grabbed her bangs and crossed her eyes to look at it, then sighed and tucked it by her ear again. Gold hair for today it was, then.
Scorpius sat at the back of the bleachers on the quidditch pitch, a pad of paper in front of him. The stands were sparsely filled for the match, as this was just a scrimmage, but since it was the first match of the season and Gryffindor was playing, there was a decent turnout. Roughly half the stands were filled with students, most wearing red or yellow to support the playing houses.
There were a few Ravenclaws in their section with diagrams and charts, and Scorpius just knew that they were going to draw and analyze every strategy Hufflepuff and Gryffindor used this game. Once again Scorpius felt vindicated in his opinion they were the least useless of the other Houses. That was precisely his motivation for being here as well. He was now playing a standard chaser reserve since one of Slytherin's starting chasers, Jackson, had been suspended by Sybble and another reserve ahead of him had started training as a beater. He was now second in the line-up to replace hurt chasers on Slytherin team, and while he was hopeful that he could play Malfoy was still bitter about being forced into the chaser position instead of seeker like he'd wanted.
He was practically alone in the Slytherin section with no one within talking range, but that suited him fine. People were a distraction. Alone he had an unimpeded view of the pitch, no conversations to distract him, and a match to consider.
Scorpius tuned out the amplified voice of commentator Jordan Lancaster, as the girl was obviously biased for Gyffindor team and he was more than capable of seeing the field with his own two eyes. A Malfoy should never have need to rely on secondhand information.
He watched the seven starters of each team line up, then launch into the air with the flying instructor. There was a flurry of movement as they dove for the quaffle, and Scorpius's quill started moving across the page without looking at his writing, listing the order of the chasers' reflexes to the tip-off.
Gryffindor chaser Melody had the quickest reflexes, retrieving the quaffle and dodging opponents with ease to pass it on to Adam. They flew it down the pitch, passing among themselves in a standard weaving pattern that was easy to perform but hard to block. Scorpius made a note of it anyways as they reached the hoops with alarming ease but, at the last moment, had a pass stolen by the Hufflepuff Captain.
They were a bit slow in switching to defense- but that was covered as a Gryffindor beater sent a very well-placed bludger to slow them down. He was almost disappointed to see that it had been the Weasley one, but made a note of her skill anyways. The Hufflepuff beater intercepted the bludger and hit it out of the pitch with brute strength, so that the chasers would have to worry less about getting knocked out of the sky until it got back.
Decent strategy; could easily backfire, of course, if the beaters didn't catch it on the return and it got to one of their players or if they ended up wanting it to distract the keeper, but Scorpius supposed that there could be uses for it. He made a note of it on a different part of the page.
Hufflepuff's chasers had a new strategy to cross the pitch, and it used a lot more vertical maneuvering than Gryffindor was ready for. They actually got a shot off, but the Gryffindor keeper easily caught it and passed it back to his teammates, who took it down the pitch to score the first score of the game.
Scorpius was dimly aware of the rise and fall of the crowd as all of this occurred, but he steadfastly ignored it as he continued to watch, looking at not one person but at the entire field as the game progressed. Gryffindor quickly figured out how to block the Hufflepuff's play and started dominating the field. They were obviously more skilled and in better physical condition.
Soon the game settled into enough of a routine that Scorpius felt it safe to focus on the reserves of each team, looking them over and judging their physical appearances to make educated assumptions why they would have been selected: height equating to wider reach, smaller players more likely to be faster, etcetera.
His gaze hesitated over Rose, standing with the Gryffindor reserves and wearing a scarlet robe that was more vibrant than her hair. She was holding a spare bat, and he realized with mild surprise that she was a reserve beater. She didn't have much physical strength and if he'd had to give her a position, he would have guessed chaser or seeker.
But seeker position, he supposed, was was already taken by the oh-so-capable and flawless James Potter. He wished he could put more spiteful sarcasm into the description, but he was not in the habit of denying the truth. James Potter, for all his many other flaws including nepotism and egoism, was a fantastic seeker. On a broom, he had no competition.
Scorpius watched as Potter avoided a speeding bludger and raised his arms to the cheers of the crowd, flying low over the Gryffindor section.
"If his head gets much bigger," Zoey commented mildly, "They'll use it for the quaffle."
Scorpius grunted in agreement and looked down at his diagrams, making sure he'd understand his own shorthand when he looked at it later. He paused with his quill halfway to his paper, sliding his gaze to the left to look at Zoey from the corner of his eye. "Malam?"
"Yeah Malfoy?" she was looking at the game through a set of binoculars that hung around her neck with a strap.
He looked around, a bit thrown off by her presence. "How long have you been here?"
"Oh I came a bit late- Rasputin was an absolute terror." She looked at him as though expecting pity. "It was his bathday. He hates soap."
Scorpius blinked at her. "Malam, this is the Slytherin section."
"I know! I swear ya'll have the best view of the pitch," Zoey smiled, putting down her binoculars since Scorpius was apparently finished with his work and willing to talk for the moment.
He put a finger to his temple as her obliviousness threatened a headache. Eventually he decided the Zoey's breach of protocol by sitting in the wrong section of the stands wasn't a subject he was willing to discuss, since this was only a scrimmage anyways.
"Aaaand now he's doing a loop-di-loop," Zoey smiled, still watching James practically strut before his admirers. "Seriously? That's just sad."
To say Scorpius was shocked would be an understatement; while he agreed wholeheartedly and had been thinking much the same himself, it was rare for anyone else say such a thing aloud. Much less for them to repeat the opinion. And outside the Slytherin Common Room to boot. "You think so?" he tried prompting her.
"Duh. What else would you call it?" she was oblivious to his special interest in the subject, her chin in her hand as she watched the match. "I mean, he's not paying any attention to his teammates at all, and he's strutting around like he's the most important person on the field."
"He's the seeker and Captain of the team that's winning." Scorpius pointed out grudgingly, loath to admit the reasons that that Potter was the most important person on that field at the moment.
"He's captain? Oh that's even worse- he should definitely be watching his chasers. What'll happen if they need to change plays? Or if he loses an opportunity to block an opponent via meat shield?" She shook her head of gold hair, its shimmer making Scorpius squint for a moment. "There is something wrong with their dynamic if they play like it's one important person plus six other people instead of six teammates with one secret weapon."
He raised an eyebrow at the statement. "Well, the seeker is the most important position. One hundred and fifty points to end the game?" She did know the rules of quidditch, right?
Zoey immediately made a buzzer sound and said "Wrong. It's the position that's hardest to play because it's so easy to be bad at it. Seriously, if seekers were as much of a lynchpin as they believe themselves to be then what's the point of the game? Just stick 'em on a pair of brooms and have them race it out."
He was instantly insulted by the notion, challenging "Well then, if you're such an expert, which position is more important?"
"Chaser." She answered without hesitation, missing his start of surprise as she stood and cheered politely for Hufflepuff as they scored a goal.
When she sat down again Scorpius had composed himself; hearing her name the position he disliked as her favorite had been unexpected. "Why them?"
"Well think about it," She commented and his hackles rose at the insinuation that he hadn't, but Zoey kept talking and ran over his brief opportunity to respond. "Aren't they the ones that have to do the most? There's a reason they're the fittest players on the team. The three of them fly back and forth down the entire pitch, passing a three-kilogram ball, have to keep a half-dozen plays memorized before the game even starts, and while it's possible for a seeker to win a match with the snitch it's the chasers scores through a season that decide the point difference to win a cup."
Scorpius blinked as he realized she was right. In Quidditch matches the winner was almost always the team that caught the snitch, but when it came to the tournaments teams progressed based on point differences. The ten point intervals that chasers scored most definitely could wind up being what won or lost a trophy, when one team walked approached the finals just needing to catch the snitch before they lost too many hoops while the other had to score first, otherwise they'd win the game but lose the Quidditch Cup.
No not 'could', Scorpius realized, would. He felt his left eye twitch as he admitted to himself he really hadn't thought about chaser responsibilities much, instead staring at the glory of the seekers.
"Not to mention…"
There was more?
"They have to be aware of practically everything to be able to get a single hoop in. Not just their other chasers; they have to watch for where the opposing chasers are too. And what happens if they work so hard to reach the hoops, just to have the keeper ready to block because they approached the wrong one? And those flying- um- ooh…" Zoey trailed off and scrunched her nose as she tried to remember the name, then gave it up for the moment. "Those two demon balls that get shot toward chasers to knock them off their brooms; one hit from those and it's a bit worse than losing a few points, isn't it?"
It took him a moment to realize she was waiting for a response. "You have a point." he eventually admitted, very grudgingly. "Chaser's probably the hardest to play tactically."
Zoey smiled, then jumped up as the seekers made a dive for the snitch.
It was hardly a challenge- James Potter dove, overtaking the Hufflepuff seeker with ease and catching the snitch on a fly-by. He pulled up to wave at the stands again while his teammates shook hands with their opponents, doing a few more loops to their adoration. Even with only half a stadium the roar of the fans was echoing.
Malfoy scowled and snapped his book shut, standing abruptly. "I have work to do." he informed Malam, walking down the bleachers.
"See you on Tuesday then." Zoey said mildly, but not quite as casually as it had sounded. She still remembered his response when he was assigned as her tutor, and was weary about how committed he and Rose actually were to helping her. "Unless you've found someone better?"
Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy pulled his gaze from Potter's stunts with the snitch and smirked confidently at her. "There's no one better than me, Wainbata."
She blinked in surprise, then groaned at the old nickname. "Aaand it's back. I was wondering how long that would take." Zoey walked down the seats of the bleachers rather than the stairs inbetween, jumping down at the end and waving. "Later! I've got a candy store to eat. I- I mean, see. A candy store to see."
Scorpius raised an eyebrow. "No. You mean 'eat'."
"Yeah. Yeah, I kinda did." She smiled dazzlingly, then turned and left. "Bye Malfoy!"
He felt no necessity in responding as she was already gone, so he walked down to where Odetta was standing with her own notes on how the match had played.
"Malfoy," the Slytherin quidditch captain said with a trace of relief that he'd come as well. "Thank Merlin. Let me see your notes."
He passed them over without a word, thinking and reevaluating his rising position on Slytherin team. And this time, when he told himself being a reserve chaser was something to be happy about, he could actually believe it.
Sorry this chapter took so long! I had originally intended to write all the way until after Halloween, but then it ended up getting almost thrice as long as my chapters usually are, so... sorry, but hey- expect a quick update to make up for it! (applause maybe? No? Only in my dreams? kay then...)
Thanks for the re-review Steffes! Glad I'm meeting your expectations.
~E