CHAPTER FIVE: Quidditch Try-Outs

For Arty, Tuesday came too slowly and frankly, it was too cold. The morning had started with rain and things got sunny but cold soon after. Arty was counting down the hours to the try-outs at five. During the first period, Arty wasn't listening to Professor Sprout, causing a herb to get into her eyes, blinding her for half an hour. Defence Against The Dark Arts wasn't better. Arty would get irritated so much whenever Quirrell stuttered, which was all the time, and banged the table in frustration when he couldn't say the word 'spell'. Charms was somewhat better. After a pep talk from Imogen- "Calm the heck down, Arty! Calm the BLOODY heck down!"- she was actually focussing in the class, although the charm she casted nearly blinded Seamus opposite her. Finally, it was Transfiguration. Arty's sketch of a quill turning into a goblet was widely congratulated by Professor McGonagall.

Then it was five o'clock. Arty had jumped off the bench in the Great Hall and ran out towards the Quidditch pitch, Imogen running to follow her. At the pitch, they saw the Slytherin Quidditch team's captain Marcus Flint floating on his broom, as about twenty people were standing on the grass talking- they all looked older than Arty.
Arty and Imogen stood behind the tall crowd of Slytherins hoping to get a place on the team. Flint began to speak.

"You are all here for a place on the best Quidditch team at Hogwarts- SLYTHERIN!" he screamed, and everyone cheered- apart from Arty and Imogen. "We have a space for Seeker, Keeper and one Beater. Three of you will be lucky enough to join the team that will beat every other house in this school at the end of the year, and we WILL get the Quidditch Cup! Now, all of you- get in a line and state what role you are trying out for."
Imogen sat at the stands, pulling her hood up so they didn't see that she wasn't a Slytherin.

The crowd did so easily and first up was a tall boy with blonde hair.
"State you name and role you are going for!" Flint yelled, floating near to Imogen, who shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Terrence Higgs, Seeker!" the boy yelled back, grabbing the broomstick a Beater next to him gave to him. Terrence mounted his broom as the Beater opened the box of balls and released the Golden Snitch which started to fly around the whole pitch with unimaginable speed. Terrence shot off on his broom, following the Snitch as Arty watched with admiration. He stopped and floated high up in mid-air for a few seconds, looking around the pitch for the Snitch. Without warning, he quickly flew towards the stands while Marcus Flint was flying behind him, acting as the opposition team, kicking Terrence sideways. Terrence then turned around with no effort, shot downwards and for a while, it looked like he had lost control of his broom and was about to hit the grass face-on. But all of a sudden, he flew upwards and reached out for something that couldn't be seen beneath the grey clouds up high above and grabbed onto the Snitch. He landed to cheering from fellow students who were trying out. He smiled a smug smile and handed the broom to the Beater from earlier and cracked his knuckles, walking to the back of the line, throwing the Snitch into the box where it came from.

Arty turned to look at Imogen at the stands and gave each other a look that they knew said 'Oh my God'.

Next up was a red-haired sixth-year girl with vibrant hazel eyes, who grabbed the broom Terrence had flown on. "Bronwyn Maddux, Beater!" she yelled to Flint in a strong Welsh accent. Her blonde friend behind her giggled and poked her in the back.

Bronwyn had flown incredibly well- Arty was very jealous as she watched her do such professional-looking twists and turns. Bronwyn had even grabbed onto the broom with one hand as she avoided the Bludger, hitting it with her bat. She was doing well until she looked down at the crowd and screamed, "I'm in!" which lead her to hit one of the goal posts and fall to the ground, nearly breaking every bone in her body. Marcus Flint didn't look very impressed.

Next up was Jamie Llewelyn Jameson, a very privelaged and spoilt Slytherin boy with brunette hair- he was incredibly wealthy and came from a well-know family, but that didn't make him good at Quidditch. He was trying out for Keeper and got scared of the Quaffle getting thrown at the goal posts he was supposed to be gaurding. He would scream at them to stop but everybody seemed so amused, they decided to keep it going on. Jamie then let go of his broom to try and punch the Quaffle away but his broom started to move downwards, and he was going to hit the ground soon. Just one inch away from the ground, his broom stopped and he was floating...but he still managed to 'fall' and yell "My arm's broken!" Of course, everybody laughed- even Arty and Imogen. The older Slytherin boys took out their wands and in unison said "Levicorpus!" which made Jamie jump up into the air and hang upside down. He stayed like that for a while.

Shellyana Mackavoy was a seventh year girl who decided to try out for Keeper- it was unsuccessful. She was flying around the pitch aimlessly with a huge grin on her face the whole time, but the smile was wiped off when an owl which was delivering a parcel glided past and got tangled in her huge doghnut bun. Shellyana tried to fight it off with her hands and her wand but to no avail. In the end, she ran out of the pitch crying with her friend Tyrone, a fellow seventh year Slytherin, jogging up to her and giving her a consoling hug.

Arty was having too much fun watching everyone else that she forgot she was going to try out, too until Marcus Flint shouted at her from his broom by the goal posts. "OI!" he bellowed from above. "Midget! It's your turn!" The sky had gone cloudy and it looked like it was going to rain. Arty's hands were freezing, but she wasn't going to complain. "Artemis Tenson, Seeker!" she said as loud as she could. The older Slytherins around her- all in their fourth to seventh years- started laughing at her. "She's tiny!" "She'll slip off that broom, the poor midget." "Give the little one a chance, she'll humiliate herself! We can have a laugh after."

Arty looked back at Imogen, who was giving her double thumbs up. Arty turned back and grabbed the Nimbus One-Thousand from the ground as the Beater was too busy laughing at her to hand it to her. She mounted it, ready to prove all the idiots surrounding her wrong. She flew off to the other end of the pitch and looked around, searching for the Golden Snitch which was inevitably wandering around somewhere. There- by Marcus was the glittering ball. It was flickering around him and Marcus wasn't paying attention. She went for it, she was ready, she knew she was doing well. She was proving them all wrong! She was going to gloat to Flint, show him what she was made of. She could become the next Seeker for the Slytherin team, she knew it, she was good enough. She had momentum, it was going well...but then the broom stopped. It wasn't moving...at all. It was all very confusing. She looked around- why did it stop? Obviously that was when Marcus Flint chose to watch. Arty was getting desperate now. She jumped on the broom but it was staying stationary. She couldn't understand what had happened. Of course, that was when she went crashing down- literally! Arty was humiliated, embarrassed and whatever words described how awful she was feeling. Without talking, she got up from the floor, walked past Jamie's upside-down hanging now-unconscious body and out of the pitch, as she heard the echoing laughter and jeering coming to her direction from the Slytherin dogs. She'd had enough- especially when she bumped into none other than Pansy Parkinson.

"I knew it," she said, sneering. "You're rubbish at Quidditch." Arty pushed past her with an angry frown on her face; she didn't want to deal with that materialistic bully right now.
Imogen was behind her, running to help and comfort. Pansy tried to trip her up but Imogen skilfully jumped over her foot, not forgetting to give her a dirty look as she did so.

"Are you alright, Arty?" Imogen asked, the Sun setting behind them.
"No!" Arty replied. "I don't know what the hell happened. The bloody broom stopped moving!"
"Maybe the batteries stopped working." Imogen joked. Arty gave her a confused look. "I-It's a...a Muggle thing." she explained quietly, looking down. "Look, we should just go back inside and have dinner. Forget this happened. Don't care about what those silly people think or say. You know the truth and that's what matters, right?"
Arty didn't answer, and Imogen didn't speak. She knew that Arty didn't want to speak, so they walked back up to the castle in silence.