Chapter 3A- POV Jo
We showed up early, me and George. Didn't want to miss a beat- also figured Wood would appreciate our apparent dedication. George complained a bit about going early, saying that Wood wouldn't be on the pitch yet. I said I didn't care, and in the end it didn't matter. We were early for sure, but not as earlier as Oliver. He had all the equipment out and ready, and was looping around the goal posts on his broom. He was in his keeper uniform, and it looked so real. It felt so real, being there, trying out and all.
"To think, in a couple of hours we'll be official Gryffindor beaters!" I whisper excitedly to George.
"I know at least one of us will be. You better work hard to keep up with me!" He whispers back, and I give him a shove.
"Oi! Save it for the pitch, girlie," Oliver shouts down to me. He joins us on the ground and it's awkward for a second, when George has the bright idea of bringing up the fact that I put my autographed picture of Wood on my bedside table. Wood laughs and offers me another hug, and I turn bright red. Nearly shove him, but I'm not quite that bold yet. Eventually other potentials start showing up, and Oliver goes into full out Quidditch mode- no joking or nonsense.
He starts out by thanking us all for coming, then delves into a long and passionate speech about the history of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, their victories, defeats, and rivalries over the years. It takes a very long time, and some of us decide to sit down. Not me or George though, we stay standing and ready to impress. After his first speech, Wood starts describing the different positions of Quidditch- Keeper, who protects the goal posts, Seeker, who catches the snitch, Chasers, who score using the quaffle, and Beaters, who protect the other players from bludgers. I straighten myself and try to look excited and serious all at once when he brings up Beaters.
Finally it's time to hit the pitch, and we all grab our brooms and line up. Wood says he'll be running basic exercises to help him determine who'll be good at what. Then he'll split us into groups, do some more exercises, then end with a scrimmage. It all sounds well and good to me, and soon we're off. First we do these drills to test our speed, control, and agility in the air. I totally excel- those are all things I'm good at. Then Wood pairs us up and has us practice throwing and catching quaffles. I'm put with Angelina Johnson, one of the friends who came to my birthday party. She's good- probably going to be a Chaser. She's clearly more comfortable with flying while holding the quaffle under her arm, but I can keep up.
Next Wood pairs us up with new people, and each pair gets a quaffle and a bat- the player with the quaffle throws it at their partner, who hits it back to the best of their abilities. This time I'm put with Jimmy Peakes- a stocky boy who I think is a year ahead of me. He takes the bat first, and makes a point of proving that he has a strong arm. He really kills the quaffles I throw at him; problem is, his aim is just awful. He never once gets it even close to me, and I end up having to dive, dodge, and maneuver all across the pitch catching what he hits. This goes on for a while, when Wood, who was observing and giving tips and flying around, notices me and Jimmy and comes over. He compliments Jimmy on his strength and me on my speed.
Then he yells out to everyone that it's time to switch rolls, and Jimmy throws the bat to me. I'm about to toss him the quaffle when Wood sends him to work with some other kid.
"I'm guessing his aim isn't any better throwing, thought I'd take some pity on ya, girlie." He winks and I smile back at him. I'm a little scared though- I don't want him thinking I can't handle Jimmy or anything. But I put my fears aside when Wood throws the quaffle at me. I take the bat with both hands at nail it back at him- right in the chest. He wasn't expecting that, and he flies back a few feet.
"Shoot- Wood, I am so so sorry. Bloody hell, I didn't mean it! I swear Wood, I'm so sorry!" I just kinda hover there as he flies back a little closer- close enough that I can see he's laughing.
"Well, Zocchi, that caught me off gaurd. Never thought you'd pack such a punch. Good shot!" He keeps laughing and throws me the quaffle again. I hit it with the same exact aim but a lot less muscle, and he catches it effortlessly. This goes on for another few minutes, and I'm perfectly on target each time. I know I've impressed him- there's no way I'm not going to make the team. I wonder how George is doing, and try to scope him out. He's with Angelina now, and they seem to be doing really well together. Wood breaks off and gathers everyone together and lines us up. Another drill- this time, we're racing.
"There's a catch- no hands," he explains, waving his hands around for emphasis. It doesn't sound that bad, I think to myself, as we get into two lines. It's a race across the pitch, around the goal posts and back. As the first pair sets off, I see it's not going to be as easy as I thought- the kids are wobbling around like crazy and can't go too fast without nearly falling off. This goes on and on as I approach the front of the line. I'm pretty scared now- I keep trying to think of a way to go fast, straight, and still not have to hold the broom.
"Next two!" Wood calls, and I see I'm paired up with George. He gives me thumbs up and a competitive type smile. My heart is racing, and I take my hands off the broom, just hovering, waiting for Wood to set us off.
"Go!" He shouts, and me and George are off. It's a long pitch, a long race. We both try to get off like bullets, but I quickly realize that won't work- I'm wobbling too much. I stop thinking about George and focus on myself- how to go fast and straight? How to become a bullet? Then it hits me- I've got to be a bullet. I lean forward, almost to the point of lying on the broom. The way you're supposed to when you've got your hands on the broom, but with no hands. Instead, I link my hands behind my back- I'm balanced, and can use my head and shoulders to help me steer. I speed up, I'm almost to the goal posts. It works! I'm not wobbling, so I keep accelerating. I have to sit up a little more to help me turn without my hands, but as soon as I'm turned around, facing the crowd of potential teammates, and I urge myself forward, as fast as I can go.
A little too fast, it turns out, and I nearly crash into Wood again. Luckily I get my hands back on the broom in time, but I jolt and nearly fall forward. Angelia grabs my robe to help me steady and I turn around to see George race across the finish line, same form as me, all leaning forward and bullet- like.
"You'll have to work harder to keep up with me," I laugh while he regains his composure. I look to Wood, who seems pretty impressed at us- I hope he realizes the form was my idea first. I move back to the back of the line and get next to George.
"You stole my idea!" I accuse. He gives me a smirk and a shrug, saying it was a good idea. We look to the front of the line, where Jimmy Peakes and Richie Coote are about to start. Wood gives the signal, and they're off- Richie in a more traditional posture, but great control, and Jimmy trying to imitate me and George. He fails miserably, ends up flipping upside down, and nearly falls off his broom- a drop that would have defininately landed him in with Madam Pomfrey. But he grabs the broom and gets himself back on track. He finishes the drill, but very slowly. Coote did well though- really well.
After that drill is done, it's time for the scrimmage. Wood counts off and assigns people positions. People generally get put where everyone expects- Angelina and Alicia Spinnet are chasers, Richie and Jimmy are beaters for one team. Me and George get put as beaters for the other. The game starts and it's pretty intense. Wood flies around throwing old quaffles instead of using real bludgers, and so I focus on that. I see Jimmy trying to go at Angelina, so I fly up right next to him and create a barrier. This gives Angelina the clear to race ahead, and she scores.
I keep hovering next to Jimmy, and stay right up next to him whenever I'm not keeping Wood from hitting my teammates with bludgers. George gets a good hit off a quaffle Wood throws and ends up knocking Cootes near off his broom. I see Jimmy hit a 'bludger' at Alicia, so I intercept it and hit it back towards him. My aim isn't perfect and he avoids it. Then he rushes up and slams into me, trying to knock me off my broom. He hits me from the side and my arm erupts in pain- but I hold on and keep playing. Keep playing up on Peakes. I'm not about to back down- not afraid of getting physical.
We both take it down a notch though- we don't actually want to hurt each other. So we give little shoves when we need to, and nothing much more. After a little while Oliver calls the game and we all go to the ground and dismount. Jimmy comes up and gives me a handshake and a nod, saying he's impressed I played so tough. The second years make a little crowd and we all discuss how we think things went, who we think is getting what position. Wood tells us to meet him same time tomorrow to hear the line up.
"Alright, listen up! Listen up, you! Here's the list: Keeper- yours truly. Seeker- Charlie Weasley."
Everyone claps- there are no surprises there. Charlie's been Seeker awhile, and he's clearly the best at it. Same thing with Wood as Keeper.
"Alrighty, then- Chasers: Angelina, Alicia, Jolene..." He lists a few more names but I don't hear them. Clapping. A couple a pats on the back. And the undeniable, gut wrenching pain of disappointment and disbelief. He's got to be joking. I look to George, who looks as surprised as me.
"And lastly, Beaters: Richie, George, Jimmy..." I stop listening there. He's joking. This is one giant prank. He can't put Jimmy as a Beater and not me. The crowd breaks up and George tries to pull me aside, but I mutter congratulations and push him away. I stomp up to Oliver, who's putting equiptment away.
"Wood- Wood! What happened? Last year you basically promised me a spot as Beater! How am I a Chaser?" He looks down at me, kind of a pitying look.
"Look, girlie-"
"Don't call me that!"
"Sorry...Jolene, I'm sorry, but I just can't put you as a Beater. You've got all the skills of a Chaser, and you'll do great, I know it."
"No- I'm a better Beater than Jimmy and you know it! He can't fly without using his hands, he's got the worst aim-"
"He's also got a year, a half meter, and probably twenty kilos on you! And he's still on the small end for a Beater- Jo...you're arm...I can't take the chance of bigger Beater near killing you! You've already got a bruise to prove that'll happen if I let you on as a Beater."
"And you've got the bruise on your chest that proves I'm good enough to be a Beater. That I'm strong enough, skilled enough. It still hurts, doesn't it?"
"If you don't want to be a Chaser, you don't have to join the team, Jo. I've made my decision."
"Fine, but you know you'll regret it. This isn't over, Wood." I turn and leave defiantly. This isn't over. Not by a long shot.
Hey, hope you liked the chapter! Cowriter here again. Just a heads up- it's college crackdown week for the next two weeks (don't ask me how it works, just accept it and pity us for having to go through it). Basically, point is, updates might be sporadic if not nonexistent. We'll try our best. Thanks for reading, feel free to review or PM, and check out our SPN oneshots if you're into that stuff. I know I am.
Yours,
-the Cowriter