Marcy Malfoy barely looked up from her Potion's assignment as she heard the portrait hole open and close. She was seated in the largest armchair in the common room, her books thrown lazily around her and her feet pulled up underneath the hem of her school skirt. It was an extremely hot day for the middle of October and she could not help but sigh as she ran a hand across her already sweaty brow.

Second Year texts are not supposed to be this hard, she thought angrily.

"Marcy are you still working on that essay?" A voice from behind her rang out, causing her to jump a bit and spill her ink across the parchment.

"Not anymore," she growled angrily, throwing the parchment into the fire. Things were simply not going to go her way.

"Honestly," the girl spoke as she sat down next to Marcy and began rummaging through her things for a wand to stop the parchment from burning. Marcy smiled; Abbie was always doing things of the sort for her. It had been more than obvious the year prior that Abbie would turn out to be the brightest witch of her year. She was pretty, brilliant, and a master with a wand. Many envied her; Marcy considered herself lucky to have her as a friend. It meant better homework grades and great companionship. She looked up again at Abbie as she ran her hands across the newly restored parchment, crinkling her nose every few seconds as she found errors and other things she did not like.

She began to correct things as the portrait hole opened again and Charlie, Abbie's twin brother, stepped into the room. For twins the two looked nothing alike; Charlie had bright yellow hair and Abbie's was the color of the midnight sky. Abbie was petite and Charlie was bulky. Abbie excelled in all of her classes; Charlie struggled miserably sometimes.

"Why do you always help Marcy with things and never me?" Charlie joked, falling into a seat next to Marcy, "You know sis, we're supposed to stick together. Family and all. Here you are selling secrets to the enemy. What is up with you?" he joked, prodding the girl with his finger. She scowled as she crossed another line off Marcy's paper and filled in something with a quill.

"Honestly Charlie, if you actually tried I might be more willing to help you," she retorted, giving him a harsh glare out of the corner of her eye, "besides, Marcy needs to practice for Quidditch."

Marcy gulped as she watched Charlie's face contort from one of befuddlement to one of absolute joy. She knew that he had always enjoyed Quidditch although he was not all that good at it himself. She also knew that he envied the broom that was lying upstairs under her bed. Her father had sent it to her, telling her to use it to be just as great as he had been. However, she had still been contemplating the idea. Aunt Hermione, her surrogate mother, did not seem to really enjoy the sport. She had spent much of the previous summer dishing out horror stories of long-winded games and horrible injuries. Marcy was not so sure anymore if playing was worth it; she was not even sure if she was good at the game anyway.

"Are you really trying out?" Charlie practically screamed, jumping out of his seat.

"Possibly…"

"Marcy I've seen you fly, you're a natural! You really should, I'm sure you'd make the team…Andrew plays on it…" At the mention of Andrew's name Marcy felt a blush creep up the apples of her cheeks. Andrew Potter was one of the few older students within Gryffindor tower that really talked to her, other than her cousin, and she could normally be seen roaming the halls with him between classes. She had learned early on that he was what a lot of girls considered to be 'cute', with his bright hazel eyes and fly away hair. He was popular, smart, and a fantastic seeker. Somewhere in her daydream she had tuned out Charlie for he was now staring at her peculiarly with a bit of smirk on his face. If it was possible her cheeks turned an even brighter color as she hid her face in her hands. She could hear Abbie laugh slightly as she put Marcy's parchment back on top of her stack of books.

A clamoring of footsteps on the stairs pulled Marcy out of her humiliation for just the briefest of seconds before she realized who was coming down. Michael, her rather quiet but rambunctious live-in cousin and Andrew were marching down, followed by a group of giggling third years. Marcy rolled her eyes as a few of the girls swooned over Andrew's backside. Sure, she would admit it was something interesting to look at, but there were more important things in life. Looking down at the Potions' assignment, Marcy growled. Potions was definitely not one of them.

"Hey Mar," came Andrew's voice from her left side as he sat on top of her books. His entourage took off as he sat down; running out the portrait hole with a group of whispered giggles and shrieks. Abbie laughed before grabbing Charlie and moving to the stairs. Charlie seemed rather irritated by being forced to leave, but mouthed 'let's practice later' and followed his sister rather grudgingly. Michael gave Andrew a slight nod before leaving, flashing a smile at Marcy, "How is second year treating you?"

"As well as can be I suppose. Professor Slughorn doesn't really appreciate how much I slack off."

"It's okay. I slack off all the time," he laughed. His face grew serious as he placed a hand over hers affectionately and she stared at him curiously. Although they were good friends and spent time together between classes, he rarely showed his emotions during off hours. She understood; she was a 2nd year, and he was 5th year. They had a lot of things between them, "So Mar, I have to ask, are you trying out for the team this year?" he asked.

"I…I was thinking about it."

"You really should. You're good. I've seen you play in our secret place before. We have an opening for Chaser and Keeper. You could probably make either. I'll see you at tryouts tomorrow?" He smiled at her before moving his hand, making her feel slightly empty from the lack of heat, "I should really get going. We're having boys night tonight, and I think Michael and Erik will get mad if I'm not there. Catch you around Mar?"

She smiled at the nickname, one that she had reserved for him and him alone, "Yeah. I'll see you at tryouts."

-----

Marcy had never seen so many Quidditch players in her life. True, many of them were first years who were not even sure of how to get on top of their brooms correctly, but the sheer mass of people trying out for the Gryffindor team was unbelievable. She could see in the distance a few older players tossing a Quaffle around and another group attempting to keep a Snitch from flying away from a circle. Closer to her, Marcy observed a group of third years putting on rather large gloves that resembled gauntlets and two or three girls she was sure were in Ravenclaw strapping on oddly dyed Gryffindor scarves. She laughed to herself.

Putting her things on the slightly damp ground, Marcy began to lace up the boots Uncle Ron had slipped into her bag without her Aunt knowing. They had been her mother's and he had shrunken them down to fit around her rather tiny feet. They were warm and comfortable, with well used leather padding and just the right amount of bounce. Although she would be trying out for the Keeper position, not the Chaser position, she was sure they would bring her just a bit of luck.

Andrew, who had been flying around above her, landed with a loud thump on top of her things, holding a clip board full of names. He gave her a supportive smile and pat on the back before walking into the center of the pitch and yelling loudly, "Alright alright, let's get this show on the road! I need you to separate into groups, Chasers on the left side of the field, Keepers on the right. Oh and you all," he pointed at the group of faux Gryffindors, "Go to your own tryouts please."

Marcy laughed as they huffily picked up their things and left, then moved to her position on the right side of the field. There were considerably less players trying out for Keeper than for Chaser and, with a quick survey, she felt rather content. The two boys to her left were both first years and rather inadequate when it came to handling brooms. There was a boy on her right that looked slightly intimidating, but the nasty scowl he gave Andrew and the other current players gave her the distinct impression that he would not make the team, no matter how he turned out to play. But it was the girl directly in front of her that felt the most intimidating. She was stocky, much taller than her, and with a definite athleticism to her stance. Her large gloves were covered with dings from obvious use and her hair was pulled back taunt in a rough looking bun. Marcy grimaced. The tryout was not going to go as simply as she thought.

A boy named Jonathan led the Keeper tryouts, much to Marcy's dismay. He seemed rather tough, as he dismissed a giggling group of girls off to Marcy's left and the two first years without even seeing them fly. He had looked over Marcy and the two other players with a bit of disinterest before giving them numbers. Marcy was third.

"You will fly into the air and take your position in front of the rings. Our two senior Chasers will begin to throw at you, attempting to score. They will throw a total of 15 balls. Your score will be tallied based on how many you successfully block. It's mathematics; the one with the most saved goals wins. Number one, Ian McLaster," he said, staring at the pompous boy, "You are first. Give us a signal when you're ready."

Marcy watched, almost dumbstruck, as the boy took to the air. He circled the three rings once before putting up his hand for the chasers. Almost immediately they began to throw at him, one Quaffle right after the other, in the most obscure directions possible. She thought for a second that he would be thrown from his broom when he dove harshly to the left, but his only repercussion was two scored goals. He looked rather annoyed as he came down, having blocked only 13. Jonathan smiled a wicked smile at him and waved him to the bleachers as he called up Imelde, the stocky girl Marcy had been afraid of. She blocked 14 goals with absolute ease, jumping off the broom at the end with a smirk in Marcy's direction.

"Good luck, 2nd year," Imelde laughed in her ear.

"Go ahead number three, Marcy Malfoy," Jonathan announced, looking at her for the first time with a bit of trepidation. Marcy had not accounted her father's name into a possible incident amongst the Quidditch Captains. She shuddered and mounted her broom, flying around the rings three times.

A look into the crowd showed her that the Chaser tryouts had finished and Andrew was sitting patiently in the bleachers with Abbie and Charlie, staring up at her. He flashed her a golden smile and she could just make out Charlie yelling 'Come on Marcy!' up at her. Her confidence grew as she raised her hand into the air, and let it fall to her side.

The Quaffles started coming almost instantly. She felt the end of her broom tap one, two, three away from the left ring, and her hand was able to bat away four, five, six from the center. She dove to the right for seven, eight, and narrowly caught nine in time to wing it back to the ground for a nice smash on ten. She flew high to bat away eleven, twelve, and dove low for thirteen. Fourteen was high above her head and, although she caught it, she slipped from the broom and ended up upside down, dangling by her feet, with fourteen in her hands as fifteen came barreling forward.

Pushing with her ankles as hard as she could, Marcy moved the broom just enough to the right and, with all she had, hurdled fourteen at fifteen, bouncing it out of its path. The ground cheered as fifteen landed on the ground and Marcy righted herself on her broom, flying down to meet the judges. She smiled as she came to the Pitch, jumping into Charlie's arms and giving Abbie a large hug as she hopped off her broom. Imelde was scowling at her. Ian had already left. Jonathan, who had been holding a clip board similar to Andrew's, handed her a bunch of papers.

"Marcy, that was the most unorthodox Quidditch tryout we have ever seen," he started, smiling in a fashion she had not seen all day, "But maybe we need a bit of unorthodox around here. Here is your paperwork. Welcome to the Gryffindor team."