Chapter 7
"It's important, we should tell them. Elle herself said she heard my Dad mention Goyle's name in McGonagall's office." Albus got up from where he'd been crouching on his knees, brushing the dust off his jumper from where his arm had been stuck under his bed. "I can't find it anywhere… It's well cold out maybe we shouldn't go." Albus added, throwing his arms up to show his empty hands. Scorpius got up from where he had been crouching himself and threw a green bundle of knitted fabric in Albus's direction. "Found it. It was between my headboard and the wall, nice try though." Albus caught the scarf easily and waited for Scorpius to reply to the second half of his conversation. Scorpius rolled his eyes "we've been over this a thousand times Albus. We didn't see anything, except Tobias and Esmond talking to Goyle. They could've been talking about the weather for all we know." "You said yourself it looked suspicious" Albus countered. Scorpius acquiesced with a tilt of his head "but we don't know anything for certain. I don't think we should bring it up. Elle's already all torn up about the meeting with your dad, Ruth told me she didn't come back to the dorm until almost midnight. She needs to focus on other things right now, because she's too upset to think rationally." Albus sighed. "Fine. But I think we should try and keep an eye on Goyle ourselves."
Scorpius didn't reply immediately, too busy donning his down-filled jacket. Albus could sense he was still uncertain. "Come on! Just the two of us, that way if it comes to nothing Elle won't find out and get her hopes up." Scorpius shrugged, which looked rather funny since he was so bundled up – it looked like his whole torse moved up an inch, and his neck disappeared. "I guess it wouldn't hurt" Scorpius said finally. Albus punched the air in celebration – it had taken him having the same argument with Scorpius three times this week, but he'd finally made some progress. Scorpius did not share in his enthusiasm, since he couldn't really move, but a faint smile crept up his lips.
"Come on, Al" Scorpius said, "we're already late." Albus stopped his celebratory dance abruptly. "Don't you want to get started right away? Goyle will be near his office I reckon." Scorpius shook his head "not a chance. We have to go and show our support." Albus deflated a bit, but still wrapped his scarf around his neck and shrugged on a light jacket. "You look ridiculous Scor, I'm not going with you wearing that. It's barely below ten out there." "Below ten is cold" snapped Scorpius, but he was blushing slightly. Albus dug through his trunk and tossed Scorpius a jacket, thicker than his but not made for snow. "Here" he said "Louis gave it to me yesterday, don't know why he bothers. He hasn't been my height since he was eight, probably." Albus looked, as Scorpius tried on the jacket. Of course, it fit. Scorpius was already rather tall, though Elle still had him beat as tallest in the year. Albus didn't think that he'd grown even an inch over the summer, he was still short, like his mum.
"if you're still cold, Rose and Elle just finished an essay on warming charms for Flitwick to hand in for extra credit, but that jacket looks much better." Albus was already halfway out the room when he called out the last bit of his sentence, determined to get the afternoon over with as soon as possible. He didn't catch the slight pink creeping up Scorpius' cheeks, and by the time Scorpius had caught up with him, the colour had disappeared. The two Slytherins met up with Sam and Ruth, who were loitering in the great entrance, Sam chatting to another group of Hufflepuffs and Ruth hanging close by.
"There you lot are, we've been waiting ages. Rose and Isidre already went down, you better hope we haven't missed her, or we'll never hear the end of it." Sam said by way of greeting, setting off immediately. "Elle wouldn't care that much" Albus said, bracing himself against the cold as they opened the front doors. "Who said anything about Elle?" Sam said, laughing "I was talking about Rose." Albus couldn't help but agree with that, and the four students headed off towards the Quidditch pitch as quickly as the strong winds would allow.
Rose and Isidre weren't hard to find – the unseasonably cold temperature had made sure that most casual spectators had bailed early on the Ravenclaw Quidditch try outs. There were only a few groups – mostly scouts from the opposing Quidditch teams, looking to gauge the competition. Rose and Isidre waved them over easily. "Took you long enough" Rose hissed, handing each person a jar of blue fire from her school bag. The four newcomers took the gift gratefully. Rose opened her mouth again, probably to chastise them about their lateness for a second time, when Isidre interrupted. "Shh, she's about to go up."
Elle hadn't needed to get ready for try outs until after breakfast, but she'd already been up for hours at that point, her stomach churning. What was she thinking? A second year almost never made the Quidditch team, especially a second year that had grown up around muggles. She was only going to embarrass herself, a thought that persisted despite her friend's vehement denials. "That's it. I'm not going! I'll just wait until next year." She said for the thousandth time. Ruth looked up from her bed where she was touching up her black nail polish. "There won't be any chaser positions opening up next year. If you want a chance of playing in the next two years you need to go today. You said so yourself… about two minutes ago" "
Right" Elle said, tugging at her collar "but I don't have a Quidditch kit." "School provides them if you make the team" Ruth shot back. "It's cold" Elle tried. "You're a witch" Ruth replied immediately. Elle threw her hands up. "Fine. I'll go! But if I embarrass myself, I'm blaming you." Ruth shrugged "Fine by me" she said. Elle started down the stairs, paused and then barged back into the room. Ruth was already holding up her forgotten broomstick. Elle grabbed it. "Right" she said, "I'm really going this time."
"Off to the Quidditch pitch?" Louis asked as Elle crossed the common room. She blushed, having hoped to pass by the older students studying without drawing too much attention to herself. Elle nodded. "Cheers, I'll head down with you." Elle blurted out "You're trying out for the team?" Before immediately trying to stammer out an apology. Louis only laughed good naturedly "no, absolutely not. I'm the team statistician though – I record assists, drops, goals, that kind of stuff. It helps the coaches decide who makes the team and who plays first string." Elle nodded as if that was obvious to her, but in all her readings about Quidditch she'd never heard of his role. "We don't get much attention" Louis admitted "but we do a lot behind the scenes."
The two Ravenclaws soon entered the Quidditch pitch and were immediately surrounded by even more blue and silver. All in all, Elle reckoned about fifty students had showed up for two positions. Louis set off towards the stands with a wave, and suddenly Elle was very, very alone. She couldn't help but realize she was the only second year who had even bothered to show up. A sinking feeling started in her chest, but it was too late to turn back now. The good natured coach, Isla Eilhart, a sixth year seeker, had already taken down her name and was starting to divide the crowd in front of her into more manageable groups.
"Right!" the young coach said, wrapping a wide headband around her dreadlocks, which were already pulled into a bun on the back of her head "let's get this show on the road!" The next two hours passed so quickly Elle could've sworn they'd been only minutes. The first hour was dedicated purely to flying drills, which Elle thought she completed with ease. It was clear to her that even though fifty students had shown up, she was not truly competing with forty-nine other students – many of them were not strong flyers. A good twenty left after the first hour, giving a wave to some of the established team players. The next hour was more difficult – Quaffles were introduced. It took Elle a little while to get her hands used to catching the leather balls, which were slightly larger and significantly firmer than the soccer ball she'd been practising with all summer. She made a few drops, which made her cheeks flame red, but Louis continually flashed her a thumbs up when she went to grab them from the ground.
Finally, Isla blew her whistle to bring the players back to the ground. "Right!" she said, as was her habit whenever she started speaking "thank you to everyone who's come out and given it their all." Then, without warning, the older student started listing out names. Elle was panicking. She wasn't ready for them to make their decision right then and there. It took her beating heart a few moment to calm down enough to realize that there were way more than two names listed. Elle listening intently for her own name but did not hear it. When it was clear that she was done her list, Elle looked to the earth, hot tears prickling behind her eyes. She was a fool to think she'd ever stood a chance against these older students, she thought bitterly. She was about to head back to the castle, when she heard, to her surprise, Isla finish off with "if you heard your name, thank you for coming, but we won't be considering you any further. Everyone else, please stay for one last drill."
Elle could barely believe her ears. She'd made it to the final round. She stood, rooted to the spot, as students streamed past her towards the castle, some silently, some muttering under their breath, some clearly holding back disappointed tears. She couldn't believe her luck. "Right!" Isla said again, after field had cleared, looking to the remaining twelve students. "We're going to do a one-on-one drill now. Each of you will give me five penalty shots and will have three minutes to show how you dodge bludgers. Everyone line up… in order of age. We'll be going from oldest to youngest."
As if Elle needed any more reminders of how young she was compared to the others. She watched as the oldest student, a stocky fifth year, proudly performed his drill – he scored four out of five of the penalty shots. Elle bit her lip and decided to stop watching everyone else's drills. It was only making her more nervous. Instead, she scanned the bleachers. She spotted Louis easily enough, a shock of white-blonde hair buried beneath a thick scarf. Higher up was Rose and Isidre, who waved at her energetically. She scanned the rest of the field, looking for Scorpius in particular, who's judgement on her flying she cherished most, but spotted a different skilled player instead.
James Potter was sitting amongst three other players from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, just off to the sides of the hoops she was meant to be scoring on. Realizing there must be scouts from every team here, Elle looked back to the crowds again. Yes, there was the seventh year Slytherin captain, with his three seekers, all sisters, two in fifth year and one in sixth year. They were pointing and giggling at the Ravenclaws on the earth, but Elle paid them no mind. She knew an intimidation tactic when she saw one. The Hufflepuff team was harder to spot, because they'd tried to blend into the thin crowd by sitting in pairs, but eventually she picked out Humphrey MacMillan, the newly appointed fifth year captain. They weren't laughing or pointing, but instead often leaning to the side or to the bleachers below them, clearly whispering about the players. To Elle, that somehow felt worse.
Movements from the bleachers entrance caught her eye, and she finally spotted Albus, James, Ruth, and Sam making their way to her other two friends. She was so grateful she almost didn't hear Isla call out her name, as the last player to show off her skills alone.
Elle blanched. As soon as she was in the air, she regretted not looking at the competition. Right as she kicked off, she heard some of the other hopefuls snickering. Something about "second year" was all she heard. The only other players in the air were the keeper, and both beaters, who were tasked with throwing the Quaffles to Elle for the penalty shots, and making sure the bludgers that chased her didn't actually hit her (too hard). Elle gulped. "Which will it be first?" called out the first beater, a fifth year that Elle recognized from the single Qudditch game that she'd attended last year, but whose name she had forgotten. "Er.." Elle said, her throat feeling very dry. "Penalty shots please" she said, deciding to get the harder part over with first. The second beater threw her the ball, which Elle almost dropped. She was sure if she was imagining it, since the wind was loud in her ears, but she thought she could still hear the snickering from the players on the ground.
Elle's first shot hit the rim of the hoop she had been aiming for, and the keeper caught it easily. Elle wanted to die right then and there. She would never be able to do this. The second shot went so wide it soared right past the keeper and landed in the stands. Even the keeper laughed at that shot, and Elle had to fly to the stands to collect the rogue Quaffle with tears in her eyes. She stood on the stands, holding the Quaffle and taking a moment to breathe, trying to stop the tears, when she heard the loudest attempt at a whisper she'd ever heard. "PSSST" Elle looked to the side, and James Potter was leaning down to talk to her from three stands up. "Fly like you're being chased, I've seen what you can do."
A half plan already formed in her head, Elle leapt onto her broom, newfound excitement flowing through her veins. The crowd on the ground could have been booing her with megaphones and she wouldn't have heard them then. She pulled up to the fifth-year beater and said "I've changed my mind. I want to do the bludgers first." "You can't restart your five shots after" called out the other beater "you've only got three left." Elle just smiled "fine by me." The fifth-year beater shrugged and put his hand in the air to signal that the bludgers should be released. A few seconds later, two dark balls were zooming through the air towards Elle. The distraction was all she needed. Soon, she was zooming through the air, easily dodging the bludgers with barrel rolls and dives. They hadn't even noticed that she was still holding the retrieved Quaffle under her arm until she'd made her first goal.
Catching on quickly, the fifth-year beater threw her another Quaffle, which Elle caught mid-dive. The keeper was more prepared this time, but it was no match for Elle's adrenaline. She scored her other two goals within her three bludger minutes. Elle landed softly to the ground, where Isla was in close discussion with two other teammates. The fifth-year tryout who'd laughed before looked furious. Elle waited a few tense seconds before Isla finally broke off from her debate. "Right!" she said. "The team has decided. We never did specify if the goal drill and the bludger drill had to be done separately. You're all in Ravenclaw, you could've figured that out yourself your first try. Elle's tryout is acceptable, but we won't be giving anyone else a second chance." At this announcement, there was muttering, and the fifth-year tryout openly cursed. "We'll be posting our selections within a week. Keep an eye out on the common room board. Thank you for your time." Elle made eye contact with the captain, who didn't smile at her. But Elle would swear her eyes were twinkling.