Chapter 5: Much Ado About Quidditch
[In which Lilian and Mary have a surprisingly deep conversation, Mary has a revelation about human nature, Colin pisses Mary off, Ron curses himself, and all that takes a back seat to Quidditch trials.]
Friday, 4 September 1992 Hogwarts
Aside from DADA, classes continued much in the same vein as the previous year. In fact, according to their syllabi, the first two weeks' lessons were nothing but review of the concepts they had finished up with just before exams. Mary appreciated this, because it helped her get back into the swing of schoolwork after the entirely different lessons she had had over the summer. Hermione, in contrast, quickly began to complain, because she didn't care to "waste time" going over anything they had already learned. After three days of the Ravenclaw's whinging, Lilian picked a fight with her over nothing at all (Lilian's ability to create problems out of the blue was simply amazing), and used that as an excuse to insist on staying in the Slytherin common room, away from Hermione, for the rest of the weekend.
Somewhere in the middle of the specious argument (Mary thought it might have started with Lockhart), Hermione declared that Mary was clearly on Lilian's side. Mary was somewhat at a loss as to how that was possible, since she hadn't said anything at all, or even looked at her sniping friends for the entire period of their spat, but she wasn't complaining: this declaration meant she was free to sit with Lilian in Slytherin, rather than feel torn between the two of them and guilty about siding with one over the other, as she normally did when they were on the outs. Life was, she reflected, much easier when everyone agreed about what side one must be on, and acted accordingly.
Lilian, dragging her back down to the Slytherin common room from the library in an apparent huff, broke into laugher as soon as Hermione was out of sight. "That went better than I thought it would!"
Mary stopped dead. "Wait, what?"
"You were tired of listening to Jeanie's moaning, weren't you?"
"Well, yeah, but… What just happened?"
Lilian shook her head in false disappointment. Mary knew it was false because Lilian liked to talk about herself, including her actions, almost as much as Hermione liked to answer questions. "I picked a fight with Jeanie so that we'd have an excuse not to hang out with her for the next few days. Obviously."
"I thought Maia was the one who said I was on your side?"
"Well, yeah, but only because I made her say that."
"How?" Lilian had a bad habit of taking credit for things that she couldn't possibly have done, like making Neville Longbottom's cauldron explode (again) or causing Mary's missing stocking to re-appear. Sometimes it was funny, but it was often much funnier to ask her how she had done it, which forced her to make up some kind of crazy scheme that would never actually have worked.
"Weren't you paying attention at all?" Lilian huffed.
That was… entirely unexpected. "No, I started tuning out your petty arguments after last Christmas." After Lilian and Hermione had returned from the holidays last year, they had begun to chafe at each other's constant presence, and had taken to sniping and bickering whenever they saw an opening. Both insisted to Mary that they did genuinely like each other, and they were still friends, but it was, she thought, a much more antagonistic friendship than either of them had with her.
"Oh. Well, fine, then," Lilian said abruptly.
"What, are you going to start sniping at me, too?"
Lilian sighed. "No, it's just… how are you planning on learning how to manage people if you don't ever pay attention to that sort of thing?"
Mary looked at her friend in astonishment. "I manage people just fine."
Lilian rolled her eyes. "No, you, like… deal with them when you have to, or write them off, but I don't think I've ever seen you work someone around to get them to do what you wanted."
"I have everything I want," Mary said, almost without thinking. She hated asking anyone for anything. If she couldn't get it herself, it wasn't important enough to pursue, or at least that was mostly what she had convinced herself. But she did well enough on her own.
"Don't be stupid, of course you don't. No one does."
Mary glared at her friend. "No, I'm pretty sure I do."
Now it was Lilian's turn to be astonished. She looked around, and then quickly dragged Mary into an empty classroom. "Come again?"
"I… have everything that I want."
"You can't have. It's not possible."
"Why not?" Mary was starting to get a bit irritated now. Who was Lilian to say what Mary did or didn't want? "I have a good place to stay, warm bed, good food. I'm learning magic, and I've got a pretty good idea of how to fit in, anymore. I don't have to deal with my awful relatives, and you and Hermione are good company, most of the time… what is that look? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Lilian rearranged her face to look less sad. "Mary," she said seriously, "those things, a place to stay, and food, and decent company and education… they're not things you want – no, don't say whatever you're thinking yet, just wait like, one second. They're things you need. Like, basic human rights. You shouldn't have to make people give you those. I'm saying you have to have things you want, that would make you happier to have, outside of what you just need to get by."
"I am happy!" Mary objected. There was nothing wrong with her life, now that she was back at school and Quirrell was dead. Lockhart could stand to go as well, but she could stay out of his way.
But Lilian shook her head. "There has to be something. You're a Slytherin. You can't be ambitious without wanting anything. It's just… not human nature, to not want something."
"Like what?"
"Like anything!" Lilian sounded frustrated. "Like a new broom, or time alone, or I don't know, whatever!"
"I just got a new broom. It's not like I needed to ask anyone for that."
"What about, like… getting the Twins to prank Malfoy during breakfast or something?"
Mary shrugged. That would probably be funny – the Weasleys almost always were – but she would never think to ask for it, just because it would amuse her. "I guess I've never thought about it."
"You… you've never thought about what? Pranking Malfoy?"
Mary shook her head. Completely aside from the idea of asking the twins to do something they'd do anyway, she'd never been as content in her life as she had been since she came to Hogwarts, and before then, she had wanted the things Lilian said were 'needs.' She hadn't given much thought to anything else she might want. "No, wanting much more than I've already got."
"Not even when, like, Hermione's being really irritating, and you just want her to shut up? Or when the elves give us kippers three days in a row, when I know you like bacon better?"
Mary shrugged. "I guess not. I mean, I can put up with most things and just wait it out. We're always going to have bacon again eventually." And Hermione would always find a new topic, or Lilian would pick a fight with her.
"You shouldn't have to just put up with everything, though! What about with Hermione? Would you have not said anything, if I didn't? She was being awful! Or like, right now. You're clearly uncomfortable, but you're still here, even though you clearly don't want to be. Why?"
"Because you dragged me in here!"
"So you just always let other people have their way?"
Mary must have hesitated too long, because Lilian spoke again.
She sounded outraged. "Powers above! You do, don't you! I don't think I've ever seen you argue with anyone about anything!"
"I would if it was important!" Mary tried to defend herself.
"Like when? Name one time where you've actually taken something you wanted."
She had demanded her Hogwarts letter, once upon a time, but she hadn't gotten it. "I, erm… stomped on Lockhart's foot the other day?"
"Self-defense. You were just stopping him from using you. It's not the same as actually going after something."
"I just…" Mary was stumped. She couldn't actually remember fighting to get something. She didn't ever start arguments with anyone. Hermione had stopped talking to her the year before over the snake thing, but that hadn't been her fault, and even before that, the only reason she went after Draco was to protect herself and make the rest of the Slytherins back off. There was that time in the obstacle course, but she was pretty sure that was dangerous – it wasn't a matter of wanting to drink that potion or not, but whether it was a good idea or not, and it clearly hadn't been. She'd said some pretty mean things to Dudley, but only as pay-back for all the times he hit her. Usually Lilian took the lead when they were arguing with Draco, or even when they had been trying to get Hagrid to get rid of Norbert. When they'd gone out in the forest after the injured unicorn, Lilian and Draco and even Hermione had objected, but Mary had kept her mouth shut.
Lilian was waiting, quietly, studying Mary's face as she tried desperately to think of even one time that she had done something just because she wanted to, and not because she thought she ought to, or to save her own skin or that of her friends. She really couldn't. She'd played with the Weasleys over winter break, but only because they had invited her, and even when she snuck out and found the Mirror, she was just continuing the exploring project she had started with Lilian and Aerin.
"Maybe you're right," she admitted, grudgingly.
"Of course I am," Lilian said automatically. "What am I right about?" She couldn't have forgotten the question she asked?
"I… I don't do things just because I want to. I was never allowed to, I guess…" She trailed off, hoping that Lilian wouldn't try to get her to talk about the Dursleys now.
Thankfully, the other girl said, "Right! That's what I was saying. And you have a bad habit of just putting up with bad situations or irritating things, and hoping they'll go away on their own" –Mary couldn't exactly deny that— "which I guess might work, but the point was that you're never going to get anywhere in the world if you don't learn to manage people and convince them give you what you want."
In point of fact, the only thing Mary could think of that she wanted out of life, off the top of her head, was to be allowed to study magic and not be used by total gits like Lockhart, so she wasn't really sure what Lilian was trying to get at with the whole 'getting somewhere in the world' bit. She didn't have anywhere she needed to be, as such. Her ambition, at least according to the Hat, was to 'prove herself,' not to become the Minister of Magic or something. "So what, then?"
"So you should start paying attention to how people get what they want. And you should probably think about what you actually do want. I mean, I have everything I need? Honestly? How much more of a Hufflepuff can you be?"
"Lils?"
"Yeah?"
"I want you to shut up."
Lilian snickered, but obliged, apparently having said what she thought needed to be said, and leaving Mary with a lot to think about. She never did find out how Lilian tricked Hermione into thinking it was her own idea that Mary was on Lilian's side in their argument.
Saturday, 12 September 1992 Hogwarts
Over the course of the following week, between dodging Colin Creevey's attempts to take her photo and 'professor' Lockhart's attempts to give her unwanted advice on dealing with her 'celebrity' status, Mary tried to put the incident out of her mind. She did fairly well setting aside the confusing conversation about wants – no matter how passive she might seem in her daily life, she certainly wasn't going to let anyone tell her what she did or didn't or ought to want, even Lilian.
The part of the incident she couldn't shake was that the other girl had inadvertently drawn her attention to something both fascinating and slightly disturbing: how positively manipulative interactions within her house were. Slytherins were always negotiating and bargaining – as Morgana had said on the train, you get nothing for nothing – but after what Lilian had said about making Hermione think Mary was on Lilian's side, she started noticing how much she, who prided herself on her people-watching skills, had been missing. It was nearly as galling as when she realized how little she had managed to learn of proper pureblood etiquette over the course of her first year. At least Lilian hadn't outright insulted her like Madam Urquhart.
Mostly, she thought, it came down to the fact that she hadn't been considering how people decided how to act, but only what they did, and when, and of course, where they were, and whether they would likely be a threat to her. After a week of watching and trying to decide what was different now, she had concluded that, before, she had (rather naively) simply assumed that people acted as she did, because that was simply what one did in a given situation. Certain behaviors were expected, and she had spent most of her life picking those out from the slew of interactions around her, which she was (before Hogwarts) so rarely allowed to participate in. She had thought, when she gave it any thought at all (which wasn't often), that people were mostly motivated by money, or the promise of safety or security, or maybe sometimes by power or fame, like politicians and Lockhart. She hadn't thought that they might, in the end, be motivated by something so complex and so simple as wanting to do one thing more than another, by preference, and not for any logical reason. She hadn't considered that some people only did things or wanted things because others had convinced them they ought to. And she most definitely hadn't seen that people all around her were trying – and succeeding – at changing peoples' priorities and motivations, right in front of her, all the time.
It was, in short, a revelation.
On Monday, she had watched Aradia Carmichael's second-in-command, Ananda Grey, flirt with Novum Aeolus, who always seemed to be hanging around the edges of Miss Carmichael's court, convincing him to promise to help her with her NEWT Arithmancy while actually promising nothing in return. When Destiny Michaels, who wanted to take Grey's place next to Carmichael, tried to make fun of her for flirting with the sycophant, Grey had suggested to Stephen Podmore, Michaels' boyfriend, that Michaels was jealous, which led the two of them into an argument, neatly distracting the Court from Grey's activities.
On Tuesday, she overheard Draco offering Matthew Bannan, a sixth-year, twenty galleons to have a chat with Terry Higgs about how difficult OWLs were. Then on Thursday, Higgs had announced that he would be leaving the Quidditch team to focus on his studies (which Mary was nearly as pleased about as Draco – she thought she stood just as good a chance as he did of taking Higgs' spot, and was now determined to try out).
On Friday, Sean Moon arranged for Marcus Young to proposition Carter Dunsidget, from Ravenclaw, in the Great Hall after lunch, so that Sean could chase Marcus off and get Carter's attention. Mary had no idea how Sean had gotten Marcus to cooperate, but apparently the plan worked, because Mary, Lilian and Hermione had come across Sean and Carter snogging in a corner of the library later that evening (to Sean's irritation and Lilian's amusement).
And, of course, she started to see how Lilian carefully poked and prodded Hermione into doing exactly what Lilian wanted, almost all the time. When Lilian was tired of doing homework, and Hermione wouldn't shut up about it, the Slytherin accused the Ravenclaw of caring more about what her teachers thought of her than her friends. Any time Hermione brought up 'Professor' Lockhart, Lilian picked a fight over something completely unrelated and distracted her. When Aerin suggested they join her to explore the grounds on Wednesday and see if anything had changed over the summer, Hermione would have stayed behind, except Lilian made a comment about how sitting around in the library all day studying didn't exactly keep you fit, did it? Hermione made fun of Lilian just as much, of course, for making eyes at Kevin Entwhistle when she thought no one was looking, or for the fact that she had apparently completely forgotten everything they'd learned for history class (though not in the class) over the summer. But Hermione only seemed to say these things in retaliation, or maybe to show Lilian that she wouldn't take her barbs lying down. She never tried to use them to her advantage, at least as far as Mary could see.
Lilian's behavior, more than any of the others', was disturbing to Mary, if only because if Lilian was 'managing' Hermione like that, what was to say that she wasn't doing the same thing to Mary? But no matter how hard Mary scrutinized their interactions, she couldn't pinpoint any specific examples where Lilian had actually gotten her to do something she didn't want to do, or ever where it really seemed like she'd tried. They rarely disagreed on anything, either because Mary didn't particularly care about the little things, like which homework assignment to do first, or whether to play hangman or take turns animating little doodles in the library to tell a story, or because they shared the same opinions on big things like the fact that Lockhart was clearly a worthless chump (they had decided over the weekend that Hermione must be in love with the character Lockhart, from his books, and was somehow confusing him with the man standing in the front of the classroom, but had yet to convince the Ravenclaw of this).
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Mary was so preoccupied with these considerations in the week leading up to the Quidditch try-outs that they seemed to have snuck up on her, despite Malfoy and Higgs drawing attention to them throughout the week. On Saturday morning, right after breakfast, she finally pushed all thoughts of manipulative friends aside, ready to concentrate on the trials.
Mary, Lilian, and Draco were the only second-years vying for the open Slytherin positons. Adrian Pucey had graduated, meaning there was at least one open chaser position, and, as Higgs had just announced his resignation, the seeker spot was fair game as well. Vinnie and Greg had said something about possibly trying out when the beaters graduated, while Theo and the girls simply gave the others a disdainful look for participating in sport. Blaise actually looked a bit embarrassed, admitting that he had no talent for Quidditch, which was surprising to Mary, because he had been a decent flier in class.
Mary was only really interested in playing seeker. She would be competing for it against Draco, Enyo Seran from fourth year, and Lindsay Turner from third. It was clear Draco felt he deserved the post simply because it was his maneuvering which had convinced Higgs to drop out of the running, but none of the three girls agreed with him.
Draco was also interested in the chaser position, as was Lilian. There was a bit more competition for that spot: Sextus Feldsmark and Sabine Kilberthal from third year; Adrian and Perry from fourth; Derrick Bole from fifth; and Marcus Young and Matthew Bannan from sixth had all turned out. Feldsmark and Bole had been reserve chasers the year before, but hadn't gotten to play in any of the matches. From the talk going around the common room, Bole was the favorite to take Pucey's spot. Larry Chesterfield would also have to defend his spot as a returning chaser, but it was generally considered unlikely that he would be beaten out by one of the second-years, and he had outflown all of the others the year before.
So far as Mary could tell, looking around the assembly on the North side of the pitch, no one was planning to challenge Bletchley as keeper or Montague and Warrington for their beaters' spots. All three of them had defended their positions the year before against all the current third-years and up who might want their posts, and none of the second-years were interested.
"All right, people! Eyes over here!" Flint called, hovering before the assembled candidates. The crowd turned, standing straighter and focusing on their captain. "Let's get started before the Gryffindors come down!"
"Why are the Gryffindors coming down?" Bannan asked. There was no petulance in his voice, only honest curiosity.
"Hooch always double-books try-outs," Chesterfield answered, rolling his eyes. He clearly had little respect for the older student, who either hadn't tried out, or hadn't made it the year before.
"Unfortunately Chess is right," Flint confirmed, shooting a glare at his youngest returning chaser. "We've been booked with the Gryffindors for the past four years, and every year they've picked a fight, so get your arses in the air before they get here! I have shit to do today, even if you don't!"
There were murmurs from the assembled upperclassmen, though the second-years kicked off without another word, hovering near head-height until they received further direction.
Flint raised a threatening eyebrow at the older candidates. Their flying skills wouldn't matter if they couldn't follow the captain's orders. They quickly joined the younger students. "First task, three laps of the pitch round the edge of the stands. Meet back here and split up into groups for each position. Go!" He flicked his wand, starting a timer.
The four prospective seekers were off the mark within a quarter second of each other, and the chasers weren't far behind. The pitch was a little larger than a standard track and field stadium – three laps over the first row of seats was roughly a mile. Draco and Mary were tied for first on the first lap, but Seran, who was on the latest Comet, was just slightly faster, and passed them from above as they rounded the third curve. Mary tucked her body even closer to the shaft of the broom, cutting down on wind resistance. She was the lightest of the four seeker potentials, and the smallest. Her broom might be slightly slower than Seran's, but she was a better jockey. She edged out Draco on the fourth curve and started to gain on Seran, but the older girl peeked back under her arm and saw Mary advancing. She flattened herself down as well, and increased her lead.
Damn, Mary thought, as they rounded the final curve. In a flat-out race, the Comet still beat the Nimbus, even with a lighter load on the latter. The Nimbus series was more maneuverable, so it would be better for actual matches, but the Comet was a better racing broom. She pulled up sharply, spinning to a halt and dropping down level with Seran, glaring at the older girl who had arrived a few seconds before. Flint jabbed his wand at her, and a glowing red figure came to hover before her in the air – her time. Draco arrived a second behind her, followed immediately by Turner, who was on the Nimbus 2000. Compared to hers and Draco's 2001 models, it was still a bit slower, but she was almost as small as Mary, and so had managed to gain ground on Draco.
Young was next to join them, and then in quick succession Feldsmark, Lilian, Kilberthal, Bole and Chesterfield. They formed a second group for chasers. Montague and Warrington were next, and formed a new group. The chasers were joined by Adrian and Perry, then the keeper, Bletchley, arrived, with Bannan bringing up the rear.
"Good times! And I'm glad to see that this year, everyone can fly a straight line!" The older students chuckled at this. Apparently last year's trials hadn't been taken quite so seriously. "So we've got seekers and chasers?" Flint looked at each group in turn, and they nodded accordingly. "Anyone want to be considered for both spots?" Only Draco raised his hand. "You'll go last among the chasers, then," the captain said. "Everyone else, when you do one-on-ones, you'll do your trials in reverse order you finished. Winners get to see the competition first. Anyone want to be considered for beater or keeper?" No one raised a hand. Bletchley, Montague, and Warrington floated over to join Flint. Apparently they would be helping to run the trials, since they had no competition for their own spots.
"Well, we need new reserves, anyway," Montague said, "now Rosier and Pierce are out to focus on NEWTs, so don't be surprised if you don't make the starting team and we ask you to stick around to see how you work with me and Warrington."
"And all you chaser options are going to take a turn in the goal hoops," Bletchley added. "Wouldn't be fair to have all ten of you take shots against me one after the next."
Flint nodded. "We'll take it in rounds. First up's chasers. Bole, Young, Bannan, take a ring. Malfoy, Moon, Feldsmark, Kilberthal, you're team one; Wilkes, Lestrange, and Chesterfield, team two. Montague beat for team one; Warrington for team two. Seekers, Seran take the left hoop, Turner center, Potter right. You're going to keep track of who scores through your hoop, and who gets blocked. I'll be watching for teamwork. Bletchley, count steals and interceptions. Got it?"
Everyone nodded.
"Form up, then, and I'll release the bludgers. Five minutes. Ready?" Mary went and hovered behind the right hoop, as Turner and Seran did the same. Bole, Bannan, and Young sorted themselves out, and Mary ended up watching Bannan. Flint kicked the box with the bludgers open and quickly dodged them, Warrington and Montague batting them away toward the other end of the pitch while Flint put the quaffle in play, then hovered above the game.
Feldsmark grabbed the red ball and passed to Lilian, who started streaking toward the goals. She passed backward over her head, hardly looking, to Malfoy, who put it past Bole. Chesterfield circled round the back and snagged it on the way down, swooping back up and making an attempt on Bannan's hoop, but his shot was blocked. Mary made a note of it.
The bludgers were back. Bannan chucked the quaffle as far from himself as he could, and Adrian intercepted it, passing to Perry, who dropped it to dodge a bludger. Kilberthal snatched it up, but immediately had to dodge the other bludger. Draco grabbed it, passed to Lilian, who was side-swiped by Chesterfield, who snagged it out of her hands. He went straight up the pitch, an easy target for Montague, who had managed to corner both bludgers, and sent them straight at the defending chaser. He rolled to avoid them, and Feldsmark stole the ball, passing it up the pitch to Draco, who was in position to score on Bannan. Mary made another note. Lilian picked up the through-ball, and did a trick-flip over the top of Young's hoop, passing through it to Kilberthal.
Perry checked Kilberthal to snag the ball, then barrel-rolled away to avoid the bludger sent at him, came wide around the left side of the hoops, and was blocked in his attempt by Bole. Unlike Bannan, Bole only deflected the quaffle, rather than catching it. Adrian caught the rebound, and Warrington sent a bludger straight at Young, who ducked it, and also the quaffle, which followed the bludger straight over his head.
"All right, TIME!" Flint called. "Pull it in!"
Warrington and Montague captured the bludgers, and the Slytherins formed a huddle.
"Seekers, report," the captain ordered. He was taking notes with a little pencil in an actual notebook.
Turner spoke first: "Young missed one by Moon and one by Lestrange."
"Bole missed one by Malfoy and blocked Wilkes," said Seran.
"Bannan missed one by Malfoy, too, but blocked Chesterfield," Mary finished.
"Fetch?"
"I've got Lestrange for one interception; Chesterfield, Feldsmark, and Wilkes for one steal each," Bletchley reported.
"Right, then," Flint said, making what looked like tallies in his notebook. "Chasers practice passing drills. Three to a squad with Bletchley, Warrington, and Montague supervising. Malfoy, you're with seekers."
Everyone but the four seeker candidates and the captain cleared off. "Okay, you lot, we're headed up to a hundred and fifty feet. Everyone know how to do the altitude check?"
"Altitudem," the seekers chorused. It was one of the few spells Madam Hooch actually taught.
Flint nodded. "Get going, then," he motioned upward, and the seekers took off, spiraling up. The captain followed more sedately.
"I have a handful of practice snitches," he explained, "which you will each make three attempts at catching." He pulled a ball out of his pocket to show them. It was the same size as a snitch, but silver instead of gold, and had no wings. "These will not dodge. The goal is for you to catch the ball as near to the ground as possible, without missing, letting the ball hit the ground, or crashing. The balls are enchanted to register the elevation at which they are caught. You'll be going in reverse order, so Turner, Malfoy, Potter, Seran. Any questions?"
"Does the ball get a head start?" Turner asked. She looked a bit concerned.
"One second this round, one and a half the next, two after that. I'll green-light you." Mary didn't know what that meant, but all the others nodded. "Ready?"
Turner nodded, and the others backed away. Flint tapped the first 'snitch,' with his wand, muttering something under his breath, and then threw it as hard as he could toward the center of the field. Turner was staring at the tip of his wand, now held in his left hand. One second after the ball was free, the wand-tip lit up green, and Turner was gone. The ball was clearly visible, glinting like a star, just beginning to arc down toward the pitch. A few seconds later the light turned white, and Flint cancelled the spell.
"Malfoy, you're up next!" Flint pulled a second ball from his pocket and tapped it, muttering. He threw, and Draco dived when the light went green. Mary couldn't be sure from up here, but she thought Draco had gotten closer to the ground than Turner. Then it was her turn.
The light went green, and Mary shot off toward the center of the field, headed slightly downward. It took only a split-second to spot the falling ball, and then she turned straight down, headed for the spot she knew the ball was going to be. She was fifty feet from the ground – thirty – ten – it was there, just a bit more… Six inches! Two! And then there was a sudden flash of brilliant white light, and the snitch disappeared among the spots burned into her retinas. She pulled up abruptly, hoping not to crash into the ground or another player, blinking frantically.
"What the bloody fuck was that?" she yelled, rubbing at her eyes.
And then she heard it, a high-pitched voice from the stands: "I got it! I got it, guys! Mary Potter, catching the snitch! This is going to be brill!"
Colin Creevey was hanging out of the first row of the stands, camera in hand, with two other little boys who must have been his year mates. He had a stupid grin all over his stupid face, and was waving his camera around. "Hi, Mary!"
Mary thought she had been rather clear over the past two weeks, constantly telling the boy that she did not want her photo taken, and dodging him when he attempted to take it anyway. He seemed to regard it almost as a sort of game, trying to catch her off guard. The last time, she had sent a Stinging Hex in his direction, which he only narrowly dodged. This was the first time he had actually managed to get an unimpeded shot.
"Creevey, you little shit-head!" she screeched, coming level with the first-years. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, you little creep? I've told you every day for the last two weeks I'm not giving you a fucking photo, and you keep trying! Now you're bolloxing up my trial, and you nearly killed me! I couldn't bloody well see a God-damned thing, two meters from the ground, topping seventy miles an hour! What the bloody fucking hell are you even doing here?!"
Creevey mumbled something, hanging his head.
"What was that, creep? I didn't quite catch it!"
"I said 'm sorry! I didn't mean to distract you. I'll just go." He turned to leave, his friends preceding him out of the stands, but Mary wasn't having it.
"Oh, no you don't! You've been following me around for bloody ages! The only reason you're leaving now is you finally got what you want! No fucking way! Give me that camera!"
"No! It's mine!"
Mary briefly wondered if she could just summon the damned thing and ruin the photo herself. He had the strap around his neck. Maybe she could strangle him with it while she was at it. "You can't just go around taking pictures of people!"
"Why not?! Everyone else lets me!"
"I'm not fucking everyone, and I'm not just something to gawk at like an animal in a bloody zoo! Now expose the goddamn picture and then I never want to see you again!"
A look of horror swept over the faces of the Gryffindor kiddies, and they ran for it.
"Get back here, you little shits!" Mary yelled, starting after them, only to be called back by Flint.
"Potter? What's going on down here?"
"That fucking Gryff first-year paparazzi wannabe bloody-well blinded me two inches from the ball!"
"What were you yelling at him?" That was Draco, and he sounded amused.
"What, where were you?"
"Right here, Potter, but I don't speak Parseltongue," he said indolently. Suddenly his attitude made a lot more sense. It must be nice for him, hearing her get pissed off with someone else in Parsel. On the other hand, she had been so angry she slipped into it by accident, and hadn't even realized it, which was rather embarrassing.
"What was the last thing you understood?"
"I believe it was that you're not something to gawk at," said Turner.
Mary flushed, hoping that they hadn't heard her say she wasn't some animal, only to immediately start speaking like an animal. "I told him to expose the picture, and I never wanted to see him again, and then when he ran, I told him to get his arse back here."
Flint sighed. "I take it you didn't catch the ball?"
"No." Mary crossed her arms, glaring after the Gryffindors. At least none of the chasers seemed to have noticed anything, and the seekers looked eager enough to change the subject. "I couldn't have been more than two meters from the ground, though. Everything went white, and I thought I was going to crash."
"You nearly did," Draco volunteered. "Pulled up about a foot from the ground."
"I'll let you make up the trial," Flint said, scowling. "Right now, we need to get back to the chasers…"
The chasers did another five-minute round of the strange scrimmaging activity. Wilkes, Lestrange, and Chesterfield were given the hoops, and the two previous teams were mixed up.
Then the seekers dove after their second round of snitches. Mary was pleased to find that she got closer to the ground than anyone else – a bare 2.1 meters – while Seran missed her ball entirely, and Turner, for the second time in a row caught hers as soon as she could, far above the pitch. Flint dismissed both of them from the seeker trials, but told them to mix in with the chasers for the final five-minute scrimmage, putting Lilian, Feldsmark, and Kilberthal in the hoops and re-sorting the rest of them into three teams of three.
Draco (who was definitely not interested in keeping) and Mary were told to split the third hoop between them so far as keeping track of the goals went. None of the three keepers were very good, and with nine others attempting to score on them, there were more goals made in the third scrimmage round than there were in both the others put together. There was also more confusion about who was supposed to be on whose team. Chesterfield accidentally passed to one of his opponents on two different occasions, as did Bannan, once.
Seran was surprisingly good, finding all kinds of holes in her opponents' defenses, and leading the bludgers into them, just as if she was seeking. She was not, however, nearly as strong as any of the other players, and had to resort to trick shots to make all three of her goals, clinging to her broom with her legs and spinning to whip her entire body around like a shot-putter, or pulling a mid-air somersault, approximating a football throw-in. Mary was incredibly impressed that she could aim something like that, and had to wonder if it would work in an actual match with a decent keeper. Either way, it looked awesome.
The third round of seeker-dives came and went. Draco did manage to get under two meters, but after two trials, Mary had a pretty good idea of how fast the 'snitch' would fall. Instead of diving as soon as the light went green, she waited until the last possible instant to chase it down, kicking back hard from her dive to make the catch just two and a half feet from the ground. Draco was stunned, and Flint said that if she could spot anywhere near that well, she was in – she didn't even have to re-do her first attempt.
After that, they took a short break, Flint conferring with Bletchley, Montague, and Warrington while the rest of them sat around, watching the Gryffindors, who had arrived sometime during the second scrimmage and were flying some sort of drill. None of the Slytherins had heard anything about them losing a player, so they assumed they were just seeing if anyone was worth training as a reserve.
After several minutes of growing suspense (for everyone but Mary, who wasn't interested in the chaser post, and Seran and Turner, who already knew they weren't going to make seeker), Flint decreed that Chesterfield, Bole, Malfoy, Lilian, and Seran would stay for additional chaser trials, Mary and Malfoy would stay for additional seeker trials, and that Montague and Warrington wanted Feldsmark and Bannan to stick around to see if they were any good at beating. Turner, Kilberthal, Young, Perry, and Adrian were free to go. They trooped off with only minor grumbling to sit in the stands and watch the rest of them duke it out.
Pool reduced, Flint activated a ward that divided the pitch in half. "We're going to have a round of half-field," he explained to the questioning looks of the younger students, "and I'd rather the snitch didn't bugger off down to Wood's end. Bletchley will keep for both teams. We'll do Bole, Moon, Montague, Feldsmark, and Potter on one team and Chesterfield, Seran, Warrington, Bannan, and Malfoy on the other. I'll ref and keep score. Snitch gets a thirty-second head-start."
He let the tiny golden ball go free, and Lilian murmured, "Talkative, our Mr. Flint," before she kicked off.
Mary grinned, rising above the other players, opposite Malfoy. Flint was all business, but then, she thought she preferred that to chatty, and he had been nice enough about the Creevey thing. Lilian was just snippy, Mary suspected, because she didn't know if she was going to be on the team or not.
Mary quickly found that it was boring to just fly around the upper levels of the pitch, looking for the fluttering snitch, as Thorpe, the previous year's Gryffindor seeker, and Price from Ravenclaw were wont to do. Higgs and Milford, last year's Hufflepuff seeker, had both been more active, leading the bludgers around the field and interfering with the other team's plays. Higgs' skill at that aspect of the game had very much impressed Mary at her very first Quidditch match. Thus, after perhaps fifteen minutes of aimlessly floating around and staring at the ground and the sky, when she noticed that Seran was lining up a pass to Chesterfield which would put him in a good position to score, she decided to try her hand at running interference.
She pretended to see the snitch near the ground and dived right in front of Chesterfield, just as he moved to intercept the pass. He swerved to avoid her, and Lilian swooped in to nab the quaffle, passing it quickly to Bole, who managed to score.
Mary recovered from her dive as soon as she realized that her gambit had been successful, only to see Malfoy pelting toward the ground on the other side of the field. He was closer to the point he was aiming toward, but Mary was lower. She tore off to intercept – helping the chasers wouldn't do any good if he managed to catch the snitch while she was distracted herself.
Mary was scanning Malfoy's path frantically, but didn't see the snitch anywhere. He was lower than her, now, and she turned, following him straight down. They were only ten meters from the ground – six – two – and Malfoy pulled up hard, swooping away and cackling madly. It was just a feint! Mary pulled up as well, her toes brushing the grass as she very nearly crashed into the ground.
Malfoy was hovering several meters away, waiting to see if his Wronski Feint was successful. "Nice try, Malfoy!" she called at him as she re-directed herself back into the sky. Neither of them had managed to pull off a Wronski Feint against the other yet, and they had been trying since their third or fourth flying class. By the end of their first year, they hardly ever managed to get the other to follow anymore, so they probably never would. Mary would have known better had she seen him start his dive, but she had been distracted by her own activities.
After that, the half-field match devolved into a chaotic mess, with both seekers freely diving through the chasers' plays, and luring the beaters into sending their bludgers dangerously close to their own teammates. The chasers were at a disadvantage with only two of them for each team, but so was the keeper, since he was actively defending against both teams without the sort of substantial break he would get in a real match, while everyone was down at the other end of the pitch, harrying his counterpart. The beaters seemed to be having a good time, keeping the bludgers in close to the scrum. For Mary and Malfoy, the game became a veritable roller-coaster ride of dips and dives, quick turns and corkscrew avoidance maneuvers, dodging and weaving between the other players and, of course, the ever-present bludgers, all the while keeping an eye out for any glint of gold.
Mary saw the snitch once, but Draco was closer to it, and would surely have caught it if he had seen it, so she did not draw attention to it. Malfoy spotted it next, and Mary started racing him for it, but Feldsmark sent a bludger at them, and then Chesterfield, Seran, and Lilian drifted into their path. Both seekers swerved, and the snitch disappeared again. The tiny ball made at least three more appearances, but each time, a distraction intervened, and it escaped before either of the seekers could approach.
Finally, two and a half hours after the beginning of the match, Mary caught the snitch. It was a close thing – Draco spotted it first that time, but he was slightly further away, and in drawing attention to it gave away his advantage, much as Mary had feared to do the first time she spotted it. She was ever-so-slightly faster, as they had learned in their initial, warm-up race, and managed to snag it from the air less than a foot ahead of the competition. Flint halted the match, bringing the sweaty, exhausted team to the ground for a ten-minute break.
The potentials who were still watching the match (and several other Slytherins who had shown up just to see the half-field game, which Mary quickly gathered from the spectators' comments was a yearly event), congratulated the winning team, laying bets on who would be the starting chasers, given their performance. Smart money seemed to be on Bole and Chesterfield. Seran was clearly a better flier than either of the boys, but she pulled too many trick shots and didn't work well with the others. Lilian looked to be getting tired by the end.
Flint seemed pleased with both Mary's and Malfoy's performances, especially the way they had run interference, and made calculated decisions to chase or not to chase the snitch when it appeared. It was hard for the spectators, who hadn't seen the initial race or the diving trials, to say which of them he would choose for seeker.
At the end of the short break, the captain ordered all the chaser potentials into the air again to complete some complex rotation of passing, shooting, and goal-defense while he evaluated their performance. The beaters and Mary were invited to stay to hear his decisions after the final trial was completed, but the beaters (along with the spectators) made their way back to the castle when the chasers kicked off. Warrington and Montague informed the two potentials that they would be kept on as reserve beaters, but that there was no way they had managed to outperform the seasoned duo, and everyone else had better things to do than watch tired chasers force themselves through a difficult-to-perform but boring-to-watch exercise.
Mary stayed, mostly to support Lilian, but partly out of curiosity as to whether Draco would make chaser. She was fairly certain that between her superior performances in diving and racing, and actually catching the snitch, she had edged him out for seeker. She sat alone at the edge of the Slytherin and Ravenclaw sections, her usual seating area, and one of the best spots to see the nearer goal-hoops.
Lilian had made two goals against the other chaser potentials and one against Bletchley (though Mary didn't know how much each was worth relative to the others, because Bletchley was clearly a superior keeper compared to Seran and Malfoy), and was moving into one of the passing positions in the drill formation when an irate-looking Ron Weasley, a resigned Neville Longbottom, and a cowering little paparazzi twerp stormed up to her.
Weasley was in the lead, with Longbottom at his side, and Creevey more or less hiding behind them.
"Guys, I don't," he whined, but Neville cut him off.
"Just let him, Colin. There's no arguing with him when he's like this."
Weasley just glowered at Mary, wand out, face nearly as red as his hair. She looked quickly from one to the other of the three boys, and decided that out of all of them, the Little Weasel was the only real threat. She quickly directed her own wand at him, completing the first two movements of the Trigger-Drop Disarming Jinx. It was an adaptation of the Simple Disarming Charm (expelliarmus) which was less powerful, but much faster. Most of the wand motions could be completed up to several minutes ahead of time, hidden between other spells, so that one's opponent would not be able to see it coming. Catherine said it was used in defense and on the battlefield, but also in potentially hostile negotiations, because almost all wanded spells were slower, regardless of how short their incantations were.
"Can I help you?" she asked warily.
And the redhead exploded. "Who the bloody hell do you think you are, swanning in here and scaring the piss out of Creevey for nothing more than taking your bloody photo! Being the bloody Girl Who Lived doesn't give you the right –"
"I think you're misunderstanding –" Mary tried to diffuse the situation, but Weasley was having none of it.
"We bloody well are not misunderstanding!" he said, as though 'misunderstanding' was some sort of inherently poncy word. "You, slimy, snakey git, scared off three of our firsties, and then tried to chase them down when they ran! It's not right! You should be ashame–"
"He nearly killed me!"
"I don't believe that for a second! All you snakes are lying, scheming bastards!" And apparently no longer even attempting to pretend that he was there for any other purpose than to curse first, and ask questions never, the Weasley boy began a complex wand movement and an incantation that could mean nothing good for whoever was on the other end of it.
Mary, with her half-completed charm, was faster. "Cadarma!" Weasley's hand opened involuntarily, and his wand dropped between the bleacher-seats to the ground below. Mary made a mental note to thank Catherine for all her tips on things she probably wouldn't learn in defense class, but ought to.
Unfortunately, the Trigger-Drop Jinx only worked once. While Mary was busy congratulating herself on her quick thinking and neat spellwork, Weasley snatched Longbottom's wand out of his hand (ignoring Longbottom's frantic cry of, "Ron! No!") and began what Mary recognized as a minor, but extremely unpleasant curse sometimes thrown at students who thought the Slytherin Common Room was a space for pontificating on how they were fourth-years now and obviously knew the answers to everything. (Adrian had taken one from Ananda Grey the first week back, and had been forced to clean up the mess by their seventh-year prefect, Mr. Rosier, who obviously felt that, whatever Adrian had said, Ananda was in the right.) It caused the victim to vomit up slugs for hours.
Weasley completed it before Mary could remember the appropriate shield charm or disarm him again. Her only real option was to drop straight down between the seats, and hope that it missed.
At first she thought that she had moved quickly enough, and by some minor miracle had managed to dodge. Then she heard a retching sound, and only just managed to scuttle backwards quickly enough to avoid the torrent of slugs pouring from Weasley's mouth. The spell had somehow… backfired? Mary hadn't even known that was possible.
"I told you I broke it in Lockhart's class – I still haven't got a new one!" Longbottom was saying. Weasley looked like he couldn't decide whether he was more furious at Mary for not getting cursed, or his friend, for apparently carrying around a broken wand. Creevey was hovering around uselessly, clearly trying to decide if he ought to take a photo of his defender puking his guts out. Weasley heaved again.
Apparently the answer to Creevey's internal dilemma was, 'yes,' because there was a loud click and another blinding flash from his Powers-bedamned camera. Weasley tried to say something to him, but it was interrupted by projected slugs, expelling themselves from his stomach. The younger boy ran off again.
Mary couldn't resist pointing out the younger Gryffindor's rudeness, even in the face of the Little Weasel's distress. "See? He's a menace!"
Weasley glared impotently, and Longbottom tugged on his arm. "Come on, we should get you to the hospital wing." The hothead turned and stalked away, trailing his meeker friend behind him, though that might have been more due to the sudden arrival of the Slytherin chasers than to Longbottom's sensible suggestion that he go visit Madam Pomfrey.
"Alright, Mary?" Lilian asked, hovering closer, clearly concerned.
"Yeah, no problem. He didn't even manage to get slugs on me."
"Right, then, come on," Flint ordered the crowd, "relocate away from this mess."
They moved to the end of the pitch directly behind the goals, all the chaser potentials sitting attentively while Flint hovered in front of them. He made a bit of a speech about the game and the importance of playing their best to represent Slytherin, and then made the announcement they had all been waiting for:
"Bletchley, obviously you're staying on as keeper. Chesterfield, I'm re-positioning you as reserve keeper. Bole, Malfoy, and myself will be the starting chasers."
Malfoy was clearly pleased with himself for making the starting string as a second-year, but Chesterfield was not. "But I played chaser last year!" he whined.
"And Malfoy outflew you. Deal with it. Now–"
"That's not fair, Flint! He wasn't playing all morning, he was just seeking! Of course he outflew me!"
"One more interruption, Chesterfield, and we'll be making due without a reserve keeper!" Flint barked. "Malfoy out-flew you in the scrimmages, as well as in the long match. In fact, Seran out-maneuvered you in the long match, as well, but her style doesn't mesh as well with the rest of the team as Malfoy's does." Chesterfield still looked irate, but he kept his mouth shut. "Seran, Moon, you'll be reserve chasers. If either of you manages to build up the upper body strength you need to play a more straightforward style and keep your endurance up, you'll have a good chance of starting next year."
Lilian pulled a face, but made a salute in the captain's direction, and Seran said, "Yes, sir." Mary would have bet she was surprised to even make the reserves, seeing that she had started as a seeker candidate.
"Montague and Warrington will stay on as the regular beaters. Feldsmark and Bannan will be our reserve beaters. I take it Monty and Warbler already told them?" The question seemed to be directed at Mary, so she nodded, somewhat taken aback by the nicknames. "Right. Potter's our seeker, obviously, with Malfoy as reserve seeker. Practices will be announced after Snape and McGonagall finish negotiating with Hooch over times – McG's a harpy when it comes to Quidditch: Snape just tries to keep up with her favoritism. Flitwick and Sprout don't care much for the sport, which is good, because if it was all of them in her office right now, Hooch would probably have a heart attack. Any questions on assignments?"
There was a murmur of negative responses.
"Right, keep an eye on the notice board then. Dismissed!"
The Slytherins meandered up to the castle just in time to watch an argument between the universally-hated caretaker, the Gryffindor ghost, and a still-spewing Weasley on their way to lunch. Lilian said that the sight of Professor McGonagall's slightly-queasy face as she ran down the Marble Stair (after Longbottom) to deal with the upset was more than enough to make up for the fact that the Weasley in question had reached his current slug-filled predicament in the course of attempting to curse Mary, and Mary had to agree. Apparently her guardian did not like slugs.
Overall, it was a very good morning.