A/N: Here's the Quidditch tryouts! I'm sure you've all been looking forward to it so I put lots of descriptions in there :) Also, mad props to my beta CrazyMuggleborn44! You're awesome!
Chapter Dedications: indescribable music , and Jacob M. Hmm, less feedback than usual... Come on people!
Chapter Nineteen
The weekend after Rain's near miss with Malfoy in the corridor, Regulus came to find her in the library, reading her Potions book with avid concentration. She was so focused on her book that he had to wave his hand in front of her face before she noticed him.
She looked up and blushed. "Sorry, Regulus, I was trying to memorize potion ingredients. I didn't notice you come up."
"That's alright," he said. "Do you know how hard it is to find someone in this castle?"
"Well, as it's rather large, I can imagine," Rain returned with a smile.
"I found Sirius and his friends laying traps in the Slytherin dungeons and asked where you were. If Lupin hadn't suggested looking here, I don't know how long it would have taken me…" he sat down next to her, looking worn out.
"Why were you looking for me? Not that I don't enjoy your company," she added hastily.
He smiled. "Slytherin's holding Quidditch tryouts after lunch and there's only one other person trying out, some sixth year named Christopher Whitman."
"So after tryouts, Malfoy's going to choose? Or is he going to wait awhile?"
"He's going to choose. If no one tries out today, then no one is going to. At least, that's what Malfoy said."
"What if Whitman is a better player?"
"I highly doubt that. He said he's only trying out to conquer his fear of heights."
Rain laughed. "I'll bet he's rubbish, then. But do you think Malfoy will even consider a Mudblood on his team?"
Regulus flinched at the word. "He wants to win, quite badly, so if you're good—and I know you are—then he'll be willing to let you play, however reluctantly. But if you win us this next match with Ravenclaw, no one in Slytherin will have any complaints about a Muggleborn in Slytherin."
Rain was greatly cheered by this. If she could win at Quidditch, then most of her problems would be over. Also, no Slytherin would sabotage their own team by waylaying their Keeper.
"Okay, then," she said, smiling. "I'll try out this afternoon, right after Whitman. I'll see you on the pitch."
"Right, see you then. I look forward you being able to sit with you at lunch again." And he walked away, completely missing the blush creeping across Rain's cheekbones.
Rain ate lunch with the Marauders and was chatting excitedly about the upcoming Quidditch tryouts.
"If I make the team, I won't have to worry about being beat up or cursed in the common room," she was saying around a mouthful of peanut butter sandwich.
"When you make the team," Sirius corrected.
"You can't know that," Rain countered.
"Have you seen Whitman on a broomstick? There's no way he's better than you," James encouraged.
Rain smiled. "I do have pretty good chances, don't I?"
"Of, course," James continued. "If you're ever up against Gryffindor, I won't be going easy on you, just because you're my friend."
"I wouldn't expect you to."
"What are we gonna do in the next Gryffindor-Slytherin match," Peter asked, dismayed. "I won't know who to root for."
"Root for Gryffindor, of course," Rain said. "Root for your own house, you don't have to root for me just because I'm your friend. But you had better root for me in all other Slytherin games," she said with a smile.
"Of course, we'll show our support for you, Rain," Remus said as if it was obvious, and it was.
The other Marauders nodded in agreement.
Just then, Regulus came running up the table and stopped, panting for breath, in front of the Marauders.
"Rain," he puffed. "Tryouts are now, come on or you'll miss your chance!"
Rain jumped up, crammed one more bite of sandwich into her mouth, waved goodbye to the Marauders, and ran out of the Great Hall with Regulus amid calls of 'good luck' from her friends.
She had borrowed Sirius' broomstick for the tryouts with the intent to get one of her own if she made the team. It was a good thing, too; there was no way she would get on the team using one of the school brooms.
Rain decided to hide in the background to watch Whitman try out, before announcing herself. Regulus went to join the Beaters on the ground (the Chasers were all in the air, testing Whitman) with the promise of convincing Malfoy to let her have a go.
Whitman was terrible. He kept going off in the wrong direction when the Chasers would make an obvious feint to one side, leaving the goal hoops wide open, and when he wasn't lunging for the Quaffle, he was holding onto his broomstick in a death grip as if afraid he would fall off. Furthermore, when he did go in the right direction after the Quaffle, he seemed adamant on keeping his hands on the broom handle and tried to block the hoop with his body. He only saved one goal out of nine in this manner, but the collision sent him rolling and screaming all the way.
After all the Chasers had a go at him three times each, Malfoy called a halt to the humiliation.
"Alright, that's enough. We'll review your performance. Chasers, on the ground."
The three Chasers landed next to Malfoy, the other Beater and Regulus. From her position, Rain could hear the discussion they were having about Whitman as, said person cautiously, drifted downward.
"Pitiful," Florence Krick, one of the Chasers was saying. "Slytherin will never win a game with him as our Keeper."
"But he's the only one who tried out," said Tonya Tsung, another Chaser.
"Can't we convince Wondrant to come back?" proposed Troy Gallantree, the other Beater. "Even he was better than this joke. At least he could ride his broom."
"No," said Malfoy. "He quit, he's not getting another chance."
Rain suspected this was a pride thing.
"I suppose we could just try to keep the Quaffle away from him," suggested Jerold Walters, the third Chaser.
At this, Regulus looked pointedly at Rain, silently urging her to step forward. Her heart was pounding at a mile a minute. She was very nervous; what if they saw her and immediately cursed her without giving here an opportunity to try? But if they desperately needed a Keeper, they would likely let her try, and if she was rubbish, then they would curse her.
Swallowing her fear, she stepped forward and cleared her throat. "Excuse me, but could I try out?"
Five heads whipped in her direction, all glaring. Regulus suddenly looked worried.
"What? Let a Mudblood on our team?" Krick said snidely.
"Why would we want your filth on our team?" asked Walters.
"You're practically Muggle, how in Merlin's name do you expect to be better at a wizard sport than a pureblood?" sneered Tsung.
"I've been practicing," Rain said timidly, eyeing Malfoy with caution, worried that he might curse her at any moment. "And no offense to Whitman, but I think even Peter Pettigrew would make a better Keeper, and he's rubbish."
"Maybe we should give her a chance," Regulus suggested timidly. "She can't be worse than Whitman."
Malfoy stared at him. "So you're a Mudblood lover now?" he sneered. Rain noticed Regulus trying not to wince at the word.
"No, I just want to win," he said coldly.
Rain tried not to be hurt by this statement. He's just putting on a show for the team, she told herself firmly. He really does care about me…Right?
Malfoy seemed satisfied with this answer. "Fine, Mudblood," he said. "You can try. Merlin knows we need someone better than this bloke."
Rain grinned happily, hopped onto her broomstick, and kicked off fast. She quickly flew to the goal hoops and hovered in front of the middle ring, ready to move to either side. Krick, Tsung, and Walters flew up into the air as well.
Tsung had the Quaffle in hand and was streaking up the pitch toward Rain as fast as her Nimbus 1000 could fly. Tsung lunged for the left hoop, but Rain was watching her eyes, which were aimed at the middle hoop. Rain feinted to the left hoop, Tsung made to throw the Quaffle over Rain's head at the apparently unguarded middle hoop. As soon as the Quaffle left Tsung's hands, Rain shot upward and swung around, hitting the Quaffle with the tail of her borrowed broomstick, sending it flying halfway up the pitch toward Walters, who caught it, looking reluctantly impressed.
Tsung looked so shocked, it was almost comical. She used this move often when playing against other teams and it had never failed her before now. She tried two more times with her most tricky moves.
She shot up above the hoops and Rain tracked her movements, rising slightly above the hoops to keep herself between the goals and the Chaser. Said Chaser then made a tricky move by reversing very quickly and lobbing the Quaffle at the now visible middle hoop. Rain couldn't just drop out of the air to block the ball and couldn't dive fast enough, so she swung herself off the broom, holding on with one hand and blocked the Quaffle with her foot, sending it plummeting to the ground faster than it usually fell, giving herself time to climb back onto Sirius' broomstick.
Krick and Walters couldn't help but whoop at that spectacular move. Tsung, however, was so angry she simply threw a fast ball right at the right hoop, which Rain blocked without any difficulty. Then it was Krick's turn.
For his first move, he threw the Quaffle with a bit of a back spin at the left goal hoop, but Rain knew immediately that the ball would curve toward the middle hoop because of the spin, and caught it deftly, lobbing it back to him. Next, he threw it lightly into the wind, making it arc for the left hoop. At first, Rain thought he had missed completely, but quickly recovered when she saw it change course slightly due to the strong wind.
His third move was nothing short of spectacular; first, he flew back halfway up the pitch, and then rocketed forward, spinning his broomstick into a corkscrew. Watching him move was making Rain dizzy as she tried to predict where he was going to aim, but then she realized that that was his intention. So, lowering herself on Sirius' broom, she shot toward him in what looked like an extremely dangerous game of chicken. Krick lost his nerve and shot upward, out of the way, losing his grip on the Quaffle as he did. Rain caught it and tossed it to Walters, who looked stunned.
It seemed quickly apparent that Walters didn't have as much imagination as his fellow Chasers, has he just tried to simply put the Quaffle through a hoop. None of his moves were very spectacular in any way.
When Walters had thrown his third Quaffle, Malfoy called them down. Rain landed lightly and stood next to Whitman to wait for the team to pass judgment.
"You were way better than me," said Whitman. "There's no way you won't get on the team."
"I wouldn't be so sure; I don't think our house would be very impressed to have a Muggleborn on their Quidditch team," Rain countered.
"I think they would be very impressed if they had seen you play today. Malfoy would be a fool not to have you on the team, at least for this year."
"You seem very optimistic about Malfoy's lack of foolishness," Rain said with a smirk.
"Maybe it's just me. Maybe it's just because I'm able to see past the whole plod purity thing. I don't see why you shouldn't play, just because you're Muggleborn."
Rain stared. "You said 'Muggleborn'!"
"That's what you are, aren't you?" Whitman was confused.
"It's just that almost everyone in Slytherin calls me 'Mudblood'."
Whitman scowled. "That's rubbish pureblood-supremacy. My aunt married a Muggle, and my cousin is in Ravenclaw. She's a brilliant witch and I respect her father for being able to keep his head when his entire world turned upside down with his discovery of the magical world."
Rain smiled. "It's nice to hear that not all of my housemates hate me for something I don't have control of," she said happily.
"Oi, you two!" Malfoy called.
Rain and Whitman looked up from their conversation to find Malfoy beckoning to them. Regulus looked quite pleased, so Rain decided that it would be good news for her.
"You made the team, Bone," Malfoy said reluctantly.
The rest of the team didn't appear to have much of an issue with this fact so Rain suspected that they made sure he didn't use the power of veto to put Whitman on the team out of spite. That pleased her even more.
"You have one chance," he continued snidely. "If we don't win this next match against Ravenclaw, you're off the team, and Whitman, you're on."
"You're joking, right?" asked Whitman incredulously. "I'm rubbish!"
The rest of the team seemed to share the same sentiments, but no one said anything.
"Practice is Tuesday, Thursday and Saturdays at five," Malfoy continued, ignoring Whitman. "You will be at every one. And," he said, putting a lot of stress on that single word. "You are not to be sitting at the Gryffindor table anymore."
"What!" Rain cried.
"That's the conditions. Mudblood or not, you are a Slytherin and you will not associate with Gryffindors, especially Potter and his friends."
"But Regulus is allowed to talk to Sirius and I don't see anyone stopping Whitman from talking to his cousin!" Rain countered.
"Black is only associating with his brother, and Whitman's cousin is in Ravenclaw. That's the deal, Bone. Take it or leave it."
"Fine!" said Rain. "Then I leave it! There is no way you can convince me that Quidditch is more important than friends. If you decide to change your mind, you can find me with the Gryffindors. I am more than willing to adhere to your other guidelines, but the last one is a deal breaker. Goodbye."
And with that, she left the pitch. As soon as she was out of sight, a very satisfying clash of the team bickering amongst themselves could be heard echoing up the field.
A/N: Ooooh! What's gonna happen? R&R!