Disclaimer: I own nothing but original characters.

I feel these Author's Notes may be useless yet, I also feel obliged to do them. Hmm… weird. Anyways, a lot of the original cast will show up, at least from time to time, even if they don't have a large impact on the story. I suspect, if things go according to plan, a few will be showing up next chapter, or the chapter after. Quone modo nunc, fulve bos?

Chapter 5

We've Only Just Begun

After dinner, Mary, Iwan and his parents made their way to Charing Cross road. Just a few blocks down from where the Leaky Cauldron, they stopped. The building they were outside wasn't ugly, or rundown, nor was it too clean and fresh. It looked as if it had, at one point in its obviously long life, been a warehouse or factory of some kind. There places where larger windows had been filled in with brick that was of similar color to the rest of the building, but without the fading that came with time and exposure to the elements.

"This is it, you two!" Mr. Hughes spoke with an enthusiasm that would have been contagious if Mary and Iwan had not been just as, if not more, excited themselves already. Mr. Hughes turned to Mary and Iwan and held out a small key ring with two small, golden keys on them. Iwan reached out slowly, only for the keys to be snatched excitedly away by Mary who was already dashing up the stoop to the door.

"Third floor! Second to the right!" Mrs. Hughes called after Iwan as he chased after Mary.

"Are you two coming or not?" Iwan asked them.

"We'll catch up soon, we have our own key, just so we can stop in whenever we feel like it!" Iwan saw his father crack a mischievous grin as he spoke. Iwan shook his head at his father's antics and followed Mary inside, who was already on her way up the stairs to the third floor.

The flat was small, but not too cramped. A pre-owned couch and armchair were in the living area with a small television and a brand new Blu-ray player. Iwan's and Mary's various posters for muggle films and classic Quidditch Teams adorned the walls. The kitchen was small, but contained all that was necessary for the two friends with absolutely no cooking skills to speak of. The fridge was stocked full of groceries and beer. There was a small bar in the kitchen that served as the dining area with two stools present. There was no room for a full-sized table.

Three doors sat opposite the entrance that held two small bedrooms and a small bathroom. They quickly figured out Iwan's was the room to the left as it was filled with his things from home, including his guitar, books, and replica Lego Death Star he had built as a child. Mary's was filled with some of her favorite art, some she had done herself, most done by her cousin Harriet.

Iwan heard his parents enter the apartment as they were looking in at the small bathroom. Coming out, they both saw the smiles adorning the faces of proud parents. They gathered into a big group hug.

"We knew you'd like it," Mrs. Hughes said, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "You're really adults now." With this admission, Mrs. Hughes let out a loud sob. Mr. Hughes provided a few comforting words before turning to Mary and Iwan.

"We'll leave you two to it then. We're at the Leaky Cauldron tonight, but we'll be back to Bear Hill tomorrow morning, bright and early."

"I just know you two are going to do great in your trials over the next few weeks! We're so proud of you both! Don't stay up too late, please. Get some rest, okay?"

After all the goodbyes had been said, the spoils of their day out put away and their school things neatly packed away forever, Iwan and Mary sat on the couch, a cold bottle of beer in their hands as they took in everything that had happened that day.

"Well," Mary said tentatively, as they settled down to watch a movie in their new apartment. "I guess it all begins soon, eh? Tuesday we're in Dorset for our open trial for Puddlemere."

Iwan took a long drink from his bottle. He preferred his beer from the tap, or better yet, straight from a wooden cask, the chilled bottle of brown ale in his hand really hit the spot. After he savored the taste for a moment or two, he thought of the coming trials. He figured he should be nervous for what was coming, but he only found himself excited. It was a quality that greatly annoyed his parents to no end. Mary called it his "spirit of adventure." His parents preferred the term "recklessly stupid," but they always said it with love.

"Can't wait," he said quietly.

"Me neither."

Tuesday came quickly. At 5 o'clock in the morning, a loud, blaring alarm sounded in his small bedroom, waking Iwan from his deep slumber. He had been having a wonderful dream where he had been flying on the back of giant, winged badger, with a military-like formation of his winged-badger brothers flying behind as they waged a wonderfully silly war against an army of robot squirrels. More than a little confused at his subconscious mind projecting that image the night before his first professional Quidditch trial, Iwan pushed the dream from his mind as he quickly hopped in the shower.

Mary hadn't woken yet, as Iwan made sure to set his alarm a full fifteen minutes earlier than she claimed she was going to wake up so he could claim the first shower. He knew her pre-quidditch ritual and he didn't fancy a freezing shower before the trial. He quickly finished up as he heard Mary's alarm go off in the next room, and as she took over the bathroom for the next forty-five minutes, Iwan set to preparing breakfast.

It wasn't a particularly good breakfast, but it was much better than his first attempt had been the Saturday previous. So it was with slightly burnt bacon, slightly less burnt sausage, and some rather bland eggs to go with the rather bland coffee that Iwan, and soon Mary, filled their stomachs before their first professional trial. At half past six, the two were dressed in their athletic clothes and turning into the alley behind their building to apparate to the Puddlemere United Training Facility in Dorset near the river Piddle.

It wasn't a large facility, which didn't surprise either of them. There were no need for stands at a training facility after all. Just a basic Quidditch Pitch, with a smallish building off to the side with the Puddlemere Crest on the wooden door. As Iwan and Mary entered they were treated to a surprisingly large crowd of people. It should not have been much of a surprise, though, as many people always showed up to the Puddlemere open trials, though only those with a formal invitation would be seriously considered. It was very much a publicity thing for Puddlemere to hold an open trial like this, it always got fans talking.

Iwan and Mary pushed their way through the throng of excited fans and other prospective players to the registration desk. Sitting at the desk was a rather frazzled-looking young wizard who looked as if today was his own personal hell. It took a few moments before they could get his attention.

"Yes?" he asked hurriedly. "What can I do for you?"

"We're Iwan Hughes and Mary O'Connell, here for the open trial." Iwan could hardly hear himself over the dull roar of the people crowded inside the building.

"Yes, yes, yes," the young wizard said, and Iwan was vaguely reminded of a hyperactive squirrel. The young wizard's jittery movements looked as if he had decided to take as many Pepper-Up potions as he could get his hands on. A small clipboard was thrust into Iwan's hands with a self-inking quill. "Just sign in, next to your name. Coach Gerald Frasely will be out shortly to begin the whole process."

Iwan gave another curious glance at the skittish young wizard before taking the quill in hand and signing his name, and then handing it over to Mary for her to do the same. She handed the clipboard back to the young wizard and they moved off to the side as a few more prospective players arrived to sign in. It wasn't long before a loud whistle blowing quieted the room. Out of a small door in the back stepped a rather brawny wizard with dark hair that was graying on the sides, and a crooked nose from one too many breaks. His full, peppery beard left him with a clearly defined jawline that made for a rather imposing figure as he focused his eyes on the crowd.

"All right!" he exclaimed, voice booming in the crowded room. "This is the annual Puddlemere United Open Trials. Some of you have been issued an invitation to be here to see if you can earn a spot on this team. Puddlemere has won the League Cup for the four times out of the last four seasons, so I expect each and every one of who has been invited to show me that you are Champion material! The rest of you," He continued. "Are here to see if you can impress me enough to give a shot with the rest of the invitees. Don't get your hopes up. Now, if you have been invited for the trial, follow me!" Iwan and Mary followed Frasely through the door he had emerged from.

There were about fifteen other players there, some Iwan had recognized from school, though they had been graduated for a few years now. There was Nellie Powers, who had spent the last two years in the minor leagues, honing her skills for her shot at the major league. Yuri Gross, who had been captain of Iwan's first House team, had spent the years since graduating playing in the European Leagues, making quite the name for himself there as an exceptional Keeper. There was also Gordon Hobart, who had played for Gryffindor three years ago: their last talented Seeker. The rest were just people Iwan recognized from the rosters of other teams.

The players were led into a locker with identical Firebolt Plus broomsticks, one for each of them. The rest of the room was decorated in the Puddlemere colors with the golden bulrushes put almost anywhere they would fit. Frasely addressed the players. "We've got a Firebolt Plus here for each of you. Grab whichever one you like. Outside that door is Practice Pitch A, that's where you will hold your tryouts." Frasely gestured to another door right behind him, with a large "A" embossed on it. "The others will be at Practice Pitch B, so they won't be disturbing you. Once outside, we'll divide you by your position and run you through some of our basic warm ups and drills before seeing what you can really do. See you out on the pitch in five."

Iwan and Mary, along with all the other players, each grabbed a broom. looked over it to make sure it was all in working order and then, one by one, filed through the door onto Practice Pitch A. On the pitch was the starting lineup of Puddlemere United. "Alright, you lot!" one of them yelled. "I'm Team Captain and Chaser Oliver Wood, and we'll be putting you through some of our drills and warm ups for the first few hours. I want all Chasers to follow Robards and Hewitt." With that, Danielle Robards and Edgar Hewitt led all the prospective Chasers (one of whom would presumably take the empty spot left by Anton Blake when he left for a team in the United States), over to one set of goal posts. Iwan quietly wished Mary luck as she followed them.

"Seekers," Wood continued. "You'll follow Neely to the west side of the pitch. Beaters," Iwan perked up. It was about to begin for him. He looked back over towards the goal posts and saw that the chasers were already passing around a quaffle a few feet off the ground. "Follow Bunch and Carr to the east side of the pitch. Keepers, follow me."

Iwan followed Henry Bunch and Tony Carr to the east side of the pitch. There were two chests laying there, as well as a rack of beater's bats. There were only three people trying for beaters today. "Okay," Bunch said. "I want you each to grab a bat, and we're going to test your strength, see how hard you can hit. From there, we'll move on to target practice, blocking, and teamwork."

Iwan quickly learned how difficult it would be to make the cut for Puddlemere. Bunch and Carr brought out some stationary training bludgers. Iwan had never seen these before. They seemed to be a standard bludger attached to a flexible pole. When hit, it would give out a Strength Index Reading (or SIR), on a scale of 1 to 10. When Bunch demonstrated, the bludger gave a reading of 7.8, which they said was standard for the league. Abby Goldman, the first prospective to whack the test bludger earned a 6.7, which Bunch and Carr said was good for a first try. Bobby Carlisle, the other prospective, earned an impressive 7.2. Iwan was thoroughly embarrassed when he walked up to attempt it and only garnered 5.3.

After a few more attempts, Iwan managed to bring his reading up to a respectable 6.5. But then the other warm ups began. The only thing Iwan could say positively about the whole situation was that his target shooting was the best. When he attempted to block fake chasers from getting hit with real bludgers, he realized that Hogwarts had gone easy on them. Professional grade bludgers moved faster, hit harder and made Iwan's time during the trial Hell. He couldn't find a grove with any of the other beaters like he had with his House team. Bishop had been a little clueless at times, but he worked well with Iwan's reckless behavior. These beaters were asking the impossible with their need for "sound strategy," and "cohesive playing." That kind of nonsense never sat well with Iwan.

After their positional warm ups, all the players were gathered again and put through basic laps around the pitch to get better acquainted with their brooms, followed by flying patterns as a whole, then the same by position. Before Iwan and Mary knew it, it was lunch time. They were dismissed back to the locker room from whence they came to find a selection of sandwiches and water for them to lunch on. Mary quickly found Iwan in the corner, keeping to himself.

"Everything okay?" She must have noticed the not-so-subtle look of complete despair on his face.

"Maybe I'm not cut out for this," he confided in her.

"Rough time?"

"You could say that. I have a weak hit, and I can't work with these other beaters. They're too..." Iwan trailed off as he searched for a word. Mary soon supplied it, and more.

"Square. Conformed. Not recklessly stupid and daring?"

Iwan nodded. "Yeah."

"Hey!" Abby Goldman said as she approached the two. "How do you think you're doing so far?"

"Miserable," Iwan said.

"Oh thank God, I'm not the only one then. Abby Goldman," she held her hand out to Mary.

"Mary O'Connell. Is it that bad trying out for beater?"

"Yes. That Bobby Carlisle is already buddy-ing up with Bunch and Carr. He hits better than us, he flies better than us, the only thing we can say is that Hughes here can aim better."

"Are there any other teams you're trying for?" Mary asked.

"Yeah, I've got trials at Ballycastle, Kenmare and Montrose."

"Nice," Mary said cheerily. "Best of luck then!"

It wasn't long after that they found themselves back on the pitch running team drills and basic plays. Iwan still felt outmatched by everyone else there. It was brutal. After a few hours, they divided into three teams, with the Puddlemere Reserve team members filling in any missing slots. Iwan's team lost both their exhibitions. After all the embarrassment, the prospects were, once again, gathered in the locker room, with Coach Frasely standing before them.

"I want you all to know, that you're all exceptional players. You wouldn't have been invited to this trial if that weren't the case. But we have only a few spots to fill, and not everyone will make the cut. You'll hear from us in a few weeks regarding your standing. Good luck. And leave the brooms."

Iwan and Mary left together and apparated back to their flat in London. They took turns showering off the grime and sweat from the day and Mary found Iwan face-down on the couch when she emerged from her shower.

"What's got you all mopey?"

Iwan groaned loudly before he answered, voice muffled by the couch cushion. "That was miserable. Bloody miserable!"

Mary moved over to Iwan's side, grabbed a leg and yanked him hard off the couch. "Ow!" he exclaimed. "What the bloody hell was that for?!"

"You can't feel sorry for yourself just because you had a shit trial," she said nonchalantly. "How about we go to the pub at the end of the block. You could use a drink."