Whoops, more quidditch nonsense. Sorry not sorry.
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The news that there would be tryouts for the house team was all over Gryffindor by lunchtime that day. Nobody new had joined the team since Harry and Katie two years ago, and there hadn't been a reserve squad since the year before that. Oliver tended to be forgiven for things like this on account of him winning the Quidditch Cup twice, but it was still a situation many were very pleased to see rectified. The only real question people were asking now was why he'd waited so long to do it. They were nearly a month into school already; the other three houses had already had their tryouts.
'You don't reckon Oliver's gotten overconfident, do you?' Ron asked that night in the common room.
'Wood? Never,' said Fred. 'We could be three hundred points up in the last match of the year on an undefeated season, and he'd still act like it was only a step away from the end of the world.'
'It's his N.E.W.T. year,' said George. 'If it's anything like what we've been put through preparing for O.W.L.s so far this year, I can understand why he's a bit behind schedule. And N.E.W.T.s are supposed to be worse.'
'Never would've pegged Wood as someone who'd let a petty little thing like schoolwork get in the way of quidditch,' Harry said.
'McGonagall might've threatened to take his captaincy away if he didn't buckle down,' said Fred. 'Sort of thing she'd do, innit?'
'No way; she loves quidditch,' said Ron.
'True,' said George. 'But she'd never put it above academics. One of her only real character flaws, if you ask me.'
Whatever Oliver's reasons, they remained a mystery. Still, there was a fairly substantial turnout that Saturday morning at the posted time. Oliver had wanted to start at six thirty, but the rest of the team had convinced him to wait until people had at least eaten breakfast or else risk no one bothering to show up.
'Now he wants to get a jump on things,' Angelina had said, rolling her eyes.
Nevertheless, Wood's plan was to have tryouts complete by early afternoon at the latest so that he could pick the team and have time to reconvene for their first practice before sundown.
'You reckon he's trying to make up for lost time?' George commented on this sudden desire to cram as much quidditch into the day as possible.
Harry recognized a few faces, but no one he knew particularly well. He was much more familiar with students his age and younger than with those of the years above him, and only those of his and Ginny's year among them were old enough to try out (or had even started at Hogwarts yet at all).
He did see Andrew Kirke – much scrawnier in his second year than he was in Harry's memory – but didn't think his chances were high. Also present, as he'd feared, was Cormac McLaggen. He was currently holding court among a small group of his yearmates and explaining how it was important he get some experience in now because the team would be needing a new captain next year.
And, running onto the pitch out of breath and apologizing for being late, Ron. Harry grinned. He'd been very disappointed upon first seeing that his best mate had not shown up.
Whatever else Harry had to say about Oliver Wood as a captain, he knew how to run a tryout. For one thing, he didn't have the problem Harry had in his year as captain of whittling down the crowd because of a bunch of people who'd shown up purely to see him. There were no first years or first time flyers or Hufflepuffs in this group; only a bunch of people who really wanted to play quidditch.
They started off doing sprints. When someone pointed out that this wasn't fair because some people flew faster brooms than others, Wood said it wasn't only about who could fly the fastest, but who could fly fast and stay under control while surrounded by a bunch of other people.
Harry and Ginny performed best in this warm-up, along with (perhaps not surprisingly) the rest of the returning team. Ron and McClaggen didn't fare too badly, either. No one did terribly (not even Kirke), which bouyed Wood's spirits.
Next he put them through all manner of drills. Fast take-offs, dives, slaloms, hard turns, basically every flying maneuver he could think of. This was where Wood began weeding people out who didn't fly up to his standards. A few people weeded themselves out. Two fourth years vomited during the hard turn drill, a second year panicked and leveled off halfway through his dive and flew off toward the stands crying, and one seventh year zigzagged so hard in her slalom that she flung herself from her broom and had to be taken to the hospital wing with three broken bones.
'Oliver, we're not trying out for the bloody B&I League!' Angelina yelled after another injury – a fifth year boy crashing into a goal post – resulted in another pause and another trip to the hospital wing.
'Right,' Wood said, though he was clearly annoyed that everyone wasn't taking this as seriously as he was. 'Fine. Enough drills. Let's start running some basic plays and then we can get a scrimmage going.'
They were broken into groups based on what positions they were trying out for. The chasers would be going first, then the beaters, then the seekers. Keepers would be last.
For Harry, this meant he finally got a chance to sit down and watch some of what was going on. There were only two other people trying out for seeker: a fourth year named Timothy Bonham, and Alicia's friend Romy Teague whom Harry still felt awkward looking at, even though she was currently wearing quidditch robes which made it much safer to do so.
The three of them sat together at the base of the stands to watch Oliver give the chaser candidates their instructions.
'It'll be you and I battling for reserve, I expect, Bonham,' Romy said. 'Not likely either of us is going to outfly Potter.'
'I suppose he might spontaneously burst into flames or be eaten by a dragon or something,' Bonham joked.
'Maybe one would cause the other,' Harry suggested. They both laughed, which was good. At least there were no hard feelings.
'Alicia's put me up to this,' Romy confessed. 'I'm not rubbish at quidditch or anything, but I've never been mad about it like she is. I'd be perfectly happy as a reserve; get to spend time with the team without all the pressure. But I wouldn't be devastated if I didn't make the cut at all, either.'
'I tried out once before,' Bonham said. 'In my second year. Did about as well as that poor kid who flew off cryin'. And they didn't have anyone better to choose from, either. Reckon that's why McGonagall bent the rules to let you on,' he addressed the last bit to Harry himself.
'Well, I'm glad you're both trying out, at any rate,' said Harry earnestly. 'It's a lot of pressure knowing there's no one to replace you if anything happens, and if ever there were a player who might need a last minute substitute due to grievous injury or death, it's me.' Too late he realized they didn't have the same frame of reference for this joke as he did, but fortunately they did remember seeing him poisoned and then screaming his head off while magically glued to a Voldemort-possessed Professor Quirrel, so they must have assumed that was what he was talking about.
'It must have been really scary,' Romy said. 'I mean, it was terrifying for the rest of us too of course, but for you...'
'It happened so fast it was practically over before I had a chance to be scared,' said Harry. 'Though hearing about it all afterward wasn't fun; it's true.'
'You're made of tougher stuff than me, Potter,' said Bonham. 'Dunno if I'd have wanted to stay at Hogwarts at all if my first year had gone like that.'
'That's less me being brave and more my relatives being awful, but thanks,' said Harry. He didn't know how this had suddenly become a conversation about his personal life. Luckily, he was saved when Romy noticed the chasers had finally been given their instructions and were in the air.
'Just nine?' she asked, squinting to see. 'He's cut that many already? And he hasn't got any of our girls in the same group, I see.'
Wood had broken the hopefuls into three groups of three, given each a quaffle, and assigned them a bevy of passing exercises. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were all in different groups.
'He won't want to give them an unfair advantage; they're so used to playing with each other,' Harry said. 'And he can mix and match the other six however he wants to see how they all work together.'
'Makes sense,' said Romy, eyeing him appraisingly. 'Vying to be captain yourself someday?'
'Bit early for me to be thinking about that,' Harry said. 'And honestly I think this is all a bit much. But Wood is Wood; there's nothing we can do about him.'
'He gets us the quidditch cup,' said Bonham.
'He does,' agreed Harry. 'I reckon it's the only reason the rest of us put up with him.'
'Here you are!' called a voice. The three of them looked round to see Fred hailing them and waving, George and Ron right behind him. 'Ginny's looking brill, eh?'
She was indeed. She had been executing every pass and every play flawlessly, and was flying better than Katie, whose group she was in.
'Is that your sister?' Romy asked the twins; Harry reminded himself she'd be in their year and would likely know them at least somewhat well. 'Alicia was saying how you've been raving about her. Looks like you weren't kidding.'
'We never kid,' said George, looking affronted. 'And anyway, you haven't seen anything yet. Wait until he has them try some shots on goal.'
They had to wait a while for that. Wood shuffled the groups around a few times, gauging how the candidates flew with one another, and how well they could adapt. Ginny outflew Alicia and even Angelina when she joined their groups. Finally Oliver rose up to the hoops and had them attempt to score. First each of the nine were allowed three penalties, then they were put back into groups of three and told to do whatever they thought would work best to score a goal.
Katie's group went first. They worked well together, and the other two – a sixth year boy and a fourth year girl – could at least handle the quaffle. They passed to Katie to make the goal, which was the logical choice, but it was also what Oliver was expecting, so he was able to save it, though it was close.
The next group approached. Romy cheered wildly while Alicia led a seventh year girl and a second year boy in a complicated maneuver that almost failed when the second year boy nearly dropped the quaffle. As before, they relied on the experienced player, Alicia, to make the shot, and as before, Oliver just managed to block it.
Last came Ginny and Angelina's group. Flying with them was a sixth year girl named Naomi Grey. She wasn't bad, but she was a bit overshadowed by the other two in her group and seemed to know it. She mostly served as a go-between for Ginny and Angelina to pass to while they themselves moved into better positions. It was a role she filled adequately, at least.
Ginny had the quaffle as they approached the posts, and looked about to take a shot. If Oliver was surprised that they weren't going with the experienced Angelina, he didn't show it. Only right before she made a shot, Ginny dropped the ball below her to a waiting Naomi in a textbook Porskoff Ploy. Naomi immediately passed to Angelina on her left, who then shot toward the center ring.
Oliver moved to intercept, but instead of taking the shot, Angelina fired a pass to her left, where Ginny was waiting, having dashed in that direction immediately upon dropping the ball to Naomi. Oliver had no time to react. In one fluid motion, Ginny caught Angelina's pass and hurled it throught the left, completely unguarded ring.
Judging by the yells of excitement that rang out across the pitch, Harry and the Weasley brothers hadn't been the only ones watching intently. The three girls congratulated each other and floated down to the ground in celebration. Wood came down near them, and just near where Harry and the others were to be within earshot.
'Wow,' said Wood, looking a little dumbstruck. 'Nice one.'
'Oliver!' Angelina shouted, marching over to him intently, driving her finger at him. 'You have to put her on the team. You have to. She can have my spot; I don't care. We need that girl on this team. Do you hear me?'
Oliver raised his hands in front of himself defensively. 'Hang on, Angelina,' he said. 'I'm not disagreeing with you; but we haven't even done a scrimmage yet. Let's at least finish the tryouts, okay?'
Angelina appeared mollified, but she gave him one last quick look over her shoulder before rejoining her friends. Ginny, meanwhile, was jogging over to where Harry and the others were, a distinctly cocky grin on her face.
'Oy, now they've done it,' said George. 'Look how proud of herself she is. We'll never hear the end of it.'
'She'll be after our spots next, George,' said Fred. 'We'd best watch ourselves.'
'As if I'd want to be stuck swinging a great heavy bat around all day,' she said jovially, finally joining them.
'It probably weighs half as much as you,' said Ron. 'It'd throw your balance off and you'd roll right off your broom.'
'Har har.'
'You fly really well,' said Romy. 'And you handle the quaffle great, too. Where'd you learn all that?'
'I started for the Holyhead Harpies in my previous life,' said Ginny casually.
Harry laughed at the brazenness of it, Romy and Bonham laughed assuming it was a joke, and the three Weasley brothers just shared a tired look, accustomed their sister's cheek.
'Beaters, get out here!' Wood yelled. Fred and George hopped up and ran out to the center of the pitch with their brooms.
'Think there's anyone here who can challenge them?' Ron asked.
'Not a chance,' said Harry.
'Even if there were someone,' said Romy, 'You'll never find two who are more in sync.'
'That's a good point,' Harry said. 'Beaters need to be able to work as a pair. Wood won't break them up, even if someone amazing shows up. He's just looking for a reserve or two.'
'You really only need one, right?' Bonham asked.
'Well, until you consider that Fred and George do everything together,' said Ron. 'Anything that could put one of them out of commission would likely happen to both, and then where would we be?'
The Beater drills didn't last very long. Swinging his bat haphazardly as if he'd never seen such a thing before, Kirke managed to hit two other players, his own foot, the goalpost, and somehow a passing sparrow, but only managed to hit a bludger twice, one of those times sending it into the face of his partner beater. And he was one of the most promising candidates. Wood looked ready to dig himself a grave and crawl into it when he called them all back down.
'Thank you!' he shouted in a tone that was much more fitting for 'Get off my pitch and never come back!'
'That was painful to watch,' Bonham said. 'And my first tryout was literally painful.'
'At least none of them knocked themselves out,' Harry offered, thinking of Jack Sloper, who as a first year was thankfully still too young to be a part of this fiasco. Ginny stifled a giggle, evidently remembering the same thing.
'There's still the scrimmage,' Romy said.
Then Wood called, 'Seekers!' and they had to grab their brooms and hurry out.
'Right,' Wood said when they were all standing in front of him. 'Okay. Really simple. I've got a practice snitch here.' He held it up for them to see.
'Let me guess...catch it?' Romy supplied.
'Quick as you can. Harry, not you. I want you to wait until one of them spots it and then see if you can get it before them. If you can't, well, maybe we'll start this all over. Got it?'
'Got it,' the three of them repeated. Wood instructed the other two to play as if Harry wasn't there at all until they had to race him for the catch, then he released the snitch, had them wait ten seconds, and then they were off. Harry went up to get a bird's eye view and watch their tactics.
Bonham was trying something of a grid search pattern, flying straight lines across the pitch, making two ninety degree turns, and then flying back. Not a terrible strategy in theory, but he was spacing his grid far too small. It would take him over half an hour just to complete one length of the pitch flying that way.
Romy seemed to be trying to imitate what she'd seen Harry do in matches, which was to casually fly around at a decent altitude, scanning every direction for a hint of gold. The only problem was that this strategy would only work for her if she possessed observational skills at least roughly equal to Harry's, and not many people did. It was why so many seeker search patterns tended to be more active, and why seekers tended to get fouled so often, since they had to remain in the thick of the game.
Harry spotted the snitch four times before one of them, Romy, got the drop on it. She was much closer to it than he was, but had to make a hard left to give chase. Harry was already shooting toward it at full speed once she had a line. It swerved a few times, and each time she lost ground trying to adjust to follow it. Bonham had noticed what was going on and was racing over to join the chase, but he was too far away to be a concern.
Harry, however, was now almost on top of it. Romy tried to for one last burst of speed, but her broom just didn't have it in her, and Harry snatched it up easily while she was still a good ten feet away. Oliver's whistle blew.
'Well, that was that,' said Romy, sighing. 'Didn't actually think I'd catch it anyway.'
'Don't think that,' said Harry. 'Never think that. If you don't think you have a shot, then you definitely don't. Maybe it'll turn toward you; maybe I'll have a fainting spell and fall off my broom; you never know. Don't give up a chase until it's over.'
'Aren't older students supposed to give advice to younger ones?' she asked, mouth turned up in a half smile.
'I think it's about experience,' Harry said.
'You've definitely got the most of that,' said Bonham, who had finally made it over to them. 'Any advice for me?'
'Sure,' said Harry. 'A regular search pattern is a good idea, if the other team lets you get away with it, anyway, but your intervals were too small. You hadn't even made it to the middle of the pitch when Romy saw it and started chasing it.'
'Oh!' said Bonham, evidently surprised to be receiving genuine, earnest feedback. 'Er, thanks. Anything else?'
'Well, you'll want to change it up from time to time or you'll get predictable. The other team's beaters will be able to just hit the bludgers to where they know you're going to be without even looking.'
'Makes sense,' said Bonham, nodding.
'Oh! Sir! Sir! Anything else for me?' Romy called out. At first he thought she was mocking him, but from the look on her face she was seriously asking.
'I'd try a more active search pattern, at least until you're more used to spotting the snitch. I saw it four times before you did, but that's just from experience.' He didn't want to say it was because he was naturally more observant, even though that probably was true.
'You always make it look so easy,' Romy mock pouted.
'Except in that final match last year.'
'Okay, sure, but that was an anomaly.'
'OY! Are you lot coming down here or not?' Wood bellowed. The three of them flinched and descended rapidly.
'Sorry, Oliver,' said Harry. 'They asked for advice, that's all.'
'Did they?' said Oliver, looking impressed. 'Showing initiative, a desire to improve, not too proud to consult a rival...I like it. Neither of you did terribly. I know it won't be a surprise if I tell you you're both vying for the reserve spot.'
'No,' said Bonham.
'I mean obviously,' said Romy.
'Good,' said Wood. 'Go and have a rest while I test the keepers, and then we'll have a scrimmage. It's almost lunchtime; I'd hoped to be finished by now, but we shouldn't be more than another hour.'
When they went back over to where they'd been, it was to see the entire old team plus Ron and Ginny waiting there. Ron was looking a bit green and was gripping his broom so tightly Harry feared it might snap. Alicia rushed forward to give Romy a hug and tell her she did a great job. Bonham looked a little embarrassed and out of place.
'Don't let this lot intimidate you, Tim,' said Katie. 'They're all right, really.'
'What's this?' Asked Fred melodramatically. 'Aspersions upon our character?'
'Listen not to this deluded young woman, Bonham,' said George, affecting some sort of deep voiced regional accent of unknown origin. 'We are in fact very frightening.'
'Shut up, you idiots,' said Romy cheerfully.
A whistle blew.
'Oy! You're up, Ron!' said Fred, speaking normally again.
'Give 'em hell, little brother,' said George.
'You at least have to show up McClaggen,' said Katie, looking ready to gag.
'Why, what's wrong with him?' asked Angelina, looking curious. Katies eyes bulged.
'Eugh, Merlin, where do I start?' She began to heartily abuse McClaggen to the amusement of her older teammates. After some encouragement, Bonham joined in a bit, though he was clearly less enthusiastic about it. Either he didn't dislike McClaggen as much as Katie, or he worried word would get back to the much larger boy about whatever he said.
Harry and Ginny were not participating, however much they might like to. They were busy encouraging Ron, who was shaking his head and beginning to voice second thoughts.
'You're already here; you might as well do it,' said Ginny.
'It's not like you can't play quidditch,' Harry said, knowing Ron's nerves and self doubt always got to him. 'Nobody expects you to get up there and play like Denison Frisby.' Frisby was the current keeper for the English national team, a fact Harry only knew because they'd been listening to World Cup qualifying matches on the wireless in the common room lately.
Grudgingly, reluctantly, Ron nodded and trudged forward.
'Does your family all play quidditch together?' Bonham asked.
'Mostly,' said George. 'The Head Boy deems it beneath his dignity, but Harry here joins in a lot.'
'So Ron's a decent keeper, then?' Alicia asked.
'Well...he's not bad,' said Fred. 'With some proper training and practice, he could be all right.'
'Ringing endorsement,' quipped Angelina.
'Hey, we don't play favorites, us,' said Fred.
'Present company excepted, of course,' said George. Angelina rolled her eyes but smiled.
'Quiet, they're going up!' Ginny ordered. None of them took the time to wonder at a second year bossing them around; they wanted to see, too.
Wood was demonstrating a few basic keeper moves and having the candidates – there were four of them – reproduce them. Ron managed a passable Starfish and Stick, but had trouble with the rest. He was doing better than the two on either side of him, a boy and a girl, both sixth years. McClaggen, to Harry's chagrin, was doing rather well.
'That McClaggen bloke's not bad,' observed Fred. 'Seems to know what he's on about, in any case.'
'He'd agree with you,' said Katie darkly. Fred appeared confused but did not ask what she meant.
Wood next took them to the hoops to see how they could fly between them. He took several pot shots at each of them to see how they'd react. He was no chaser, but only McClaggen managed to block a majority of these shots, four out of six. Ron managed three, and the other two only one apiece. They all flew back down together moments later.
'I'm going to call out some names!' Wood announced. 'If you hear your name, you're to stay for a scrimmage. If not, you can go back to the castle. Thank you to everyone who tried out.' He didn't sound entirely like he meant that last part.
The chasers who stayed were of course Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and Ginny, along with Naomi Grey and her fellow sixth year Benson Graff. Joining Fred and George were hapless little Andrew Kirke, and a seventh year named Buster Gavel.
'That can't be a real name,' remarked Ginny.
Ron and McClaggen were asked to stay, and to both of their great surprise, so were Romy Teague and Tim Bonham.
'Guess he's figuring which one of us he wants to go with,' said Romy, after the two of them shared a look.
'Harry, come over here,' called Wood, waving. Harry jogged over to see what he wanted. He noticed he was starting to feel hungry, and realized it was already past lunchtime. Wood really was a madman.
'What is it, Oliver?'
'I'm not going to have you play in the scrimmage,' Wood said. 'I'm not playing either, obviously,' he said, indicating Ron and McClaggen. 'I need to watch everyone to see how they do. I want you to watch the seekers and let me know what you think.'
'What do you want me to look for?' Harry asked.
'Just a general sense of how you think they're doing,' said Wood. 'I'll be watching them too, but I have to split my focus in a lot of different directions. Helps to have another set of eyes, and you know seeking better than anyone else on the team.'
'I made the team, then?' Harry asked cheekily.
'Get off it, Potter. Just keep an eye on them, eh?'
'Aye, captain,' said Harry, saluting. Wood looked a moment as if he were reconsidering, then turned and began breaking up the fourteen remaining players into their scrimmage teams.
He put Ginny and Katie on the same side, which interested Harry, them being the two youngest of the four most promising chasers. What Wood couldn't know was that this worked in Ginny's favor, as she had a full year of experience playing with Katie and knew her style well. They got Benson Graff as their third. For beaters they got George and Buster Gavel, who looked as big as his name made him sound. His bat looked almost too small to be useful in his hand.
They got McClaggen for their keeper, which annoyed both Katie and Ginny to no end, and Tim Bonham for their seeker. Angelina and Alicia seemed slightly happier with their team, though as far as Harry could tell, Wood couldn't have divided them any more evenly.
The whistle was blown and the match was on. Hopefully the training snitch they were using was easier to see than a regular one; Harry did not know what Wood planned to do if it took a long time for it to be caught, but he couldn't see him calling the game early.
It was an interesting game to watch. The chasers were evenly matched; Ginny was the strongest player but Angelina and Alica worked very well together, and Naomi Grey figured out what role she needed to play faster than Benson Graff did. Fred had a bit better luck with his partner than George; Kirke might hit everything under the Sun before acually striking the bludger, but at least he was trying for it. Gavel seemed to think his job regarding bludgers was to just fly right into them.
Both seekers seemed to have taken Harry's words to heart; Romy was flying around actively looking for the snitch, and while Bonham still favored a regular search pattern, he'd made it much bigger and so was covering a lot more ground more quickly.
McClaggen apparently did not agree, and was trying to holler to him that he was neglecting his right side (he wasn't) when Angelina flew in and scored right under his nose.
'Leave him alone and do your own job, McClaggen!' Katie shouted at him.
'Shut it, Bell! That wouldn't have happened if you'd been doing yours!'
The bludgers were being much more of a general hindrance than usual, given that only two players instead of the typical four were making any effort to control them. It wasn't for lack of trying on Kirke's or Gavel's part, but Harry privately thought they might have better luck just flying into the opposing players themselves, fouls or no fouls.
Ron dived at a goal shot by Ginny and missed. McClaggen laughed heartily, even though the score was thirty to ten against his team, Alicia and Angelina each having scored minutes before while he was distracted arguing with George over whom the bludgers should be targeting.
Harry could see Wood itching to blow his whistle and shout instructions, but that wasn't what this was supposed to be about. This was about watching everyone play.
Half an hour later, Wood was about to tear his hair out. Harry was tempted to join him, if he were being honest. Romy and Bonham were the only ones showing any kind of promise or initiative. Both had settled into their own style of searching for the snitch, and while they were both definitely rudimentary in their approach, they at least had the potential to be effective.
Naomi Grey and Benson Graff weren't doing terribly, but the problem was they weren't doing much of anything. They were content to simply be present for one of their teammates to pass to, and then immediately pass the quaffle on again to their other teammate. Perhaps they were feeling intimidated by the four girls they were playing with, but it resulted in a lot of extra work being put on the shoulders of those four, and a lot of changes in possession to boot, since they didn't always check if anyone was open before attempting to pass.
If that were the worst of it, things wouldn't be so bad. Fred and George were working even harder than the experienced chasers, as their respective teammates were more of a hindrance than a help most of the time. Kirke was maintaining his pattern of hitting something other than the bludger with his bat four times out of five, and when he did actually manage to hit the ball he was aiming at, it shot out of play or at someone on his own team as often as at an opposing player.
This was still somehow better than Gavel, who had yet to hit anything at all with his bat. Not for lack of trying, however. Harry was sure that were he to ever make contact with something, the force he was putting into his great mighty swings would send whatever it was careening all the way into Hogsmeade. The bludgers hit him more than anything else; he was going to be a giant walking, talking bruise by the time the scrimmage was over.
The keepers, Harry was loathe to say, were perhaps the worst. Ron had managed to save three goals so far, but Harry wasn't sure those hadn't been flukes. The rest of his attempts reminded Harry of those disastrous games he'd played during their fifth year, where each miss seemed to get him more and more flustered, causing him to flounder and overcompensate at an increasingly frantic pace as the game went on.
The only silver lining to this was that McClaggen was no better. On rare occasions when absolutely nothing else was going on around him, he could stop a shot on goal well enough – he'd managed four so far. But he spent so much of his time trying to tell everyone else on his team what to do – even leaving the scoring area to do so – that his team was now behind by sixty points, as his hoops were so frequently left completely undefended.
'I can't take much more of this,' said Wood, his face looking so forlorn you'd have thought someone he loved had just died. 'Make sure you're watching those two if they start to chase the snitch because I'm calling this whether one of them catches it or not.'
'How much longer do you want to wait?' Harry asked.
'Ten minutes, tops. If they haven't spotted it by then, we're finished.'
Harry was surprised he was willing to wait that long, but nodded.
Six more minutes went by. Ron did manage to save another goal (albeit by getting hit in the face by the quaffle), and Gavel actually managed to hit something with his bat. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it), it was McClaggen.
Sadly there was no penalty for hitting your own keeper with your beater's bat, so while McClaggen was doubled over, vomiting and clutching his stomach where he'd been hit with enough force to knock a troll unconscious, Naomi managed to score her first goal of the afternoon (because Angelina made her, refusing to take the shot herself).
Harry saw it perhaps two seconds early: the snitch, fluttering near the middle of the pitch. Romy saw it first and shot toward it; it took another second or two for Bonham to realize what she was doing.
It took a dive and they both followed it, but Bonham's angle was too shallow. He'd never catch up to it in time. Romy's form wasn't the best, but she had a good line on it. George sent a bludger her way, which she noticed only just in time and had to swerve wildly to avoid, by which time the snitch was gone again.
Wood blew his whistle.
'That's enough!' he bellowed. 'Everyone to the ground! Gavel, take McClaggen to the hospital wing. Have Madam Pomfrey check you out too while you're there; there can't be an inch of you that's not black and blue.'
It was a haggard group of people who descended to the pitch. Ron looked ready to either cry or crawl into a hole and die. Perhaps both. Harry felt sorry for him. Ron's self-confidence had always been a problem for him back in school, and this was a much younger Ron than had ever tried out for quidditch before, which may have made it even worse. He wondered if it had been a mistake trying to talk him into coming today.
'What did you think, Harry?' Wood said to him before they joined the others.
'About the seekers or the whole thing?' he replied darkly.
'Both,' said Wood, sighing. Then he held up a hand. 'Wait, don't answer that yet. I want to talk to everyone first.'
Once they made sure Gavel and McClaggen could leave under their own power, the rest of the group gathered. Some looked hopeful. Others almost as downcast as Ron. Still others just looked hungry.
'I want to have a word with last year's team before I decide or announce anything,' Wood told them all. 'The rest of you have been waiting for lunch long enough. Thank you all for coming; I'll have an announcement posted in the common room by this evening. Someone tell Gavel and McClaggen. Dismissed!'
The old team hung around while everyone else began to shuffle off. Ginny put a consoling arm around Ron and led him away, muttering what Harry could only assume were either words of encouragement or a list of all the things they could go and eat for lunch.
'Well that was a bloody disaster,' said Wood once everyone else was out of earshot. He sat down heavily on the pitch and the rest of them joined him. 'Why did I let you lot talk me into this?'
'Oliver,' Angelina said patiently. 'Okay sure, it was a mess. But I say the whole thing was worth it to find Ginny Weasley.' The other two chasers nodded. Fred and George grinned smugly.
'All right, I'll grant you that,' said Wood. 'But it presents us with another problem.' He looked at the three chasers. 'If she's on the team, it means she's taking one of your spots.'
'Have you decided...who that's going to be?' asked Alicia hesitantly. Wood shook his head.
'The three of us talked earlier,' said Angelina, 'and we have a suggestion, if you're okay with it. There's three matches throughout the year. There's three of us. What if we all sat out one game each? It's O.W.L. year for Alicia and I; could give us some extra time to revise.'
'You'd all be okay with that?' Wood asked. The three girls nodded. He pursed his lips, considering it.
'It's not ideal,' said Angelina, 'but we can't not have her on the team. And we don't really want one of us cut from the team, either. I know it's a bit selfish of us to ask, but it's your decision; we'll go along with whatever you say.' The other two nodded again.
Wood gave a quick nod, apparently coming to a descision.
'I'll go along with it on one condition,' he said.
'What's that?' asked Katie.
'No offense to either of you,' he said to her and Alicia, 'but Angelina's the best flyer of the three of you, and the best with strategy. Not by much, but by enough. I want her to play in the first two games, and if at the end of the year we're behind or it's really close going into the last match, I want to put her in again. If that does happen, you two can draw lots to see who has to sit out twice.'
Angelina looked embarrassed but pleased (and possibly guilty for being pleased; who could say?), but Alicia and Katie looked at each other and seemed to agree almost at once.
'That's fair,' Alicia said. 'We want to win too, after all.'
'It should be me who sits out twice if it comes to that,' said Katie. 'I'll have another year to play after you two leave, after all.'
Alicia leaned over and hugged her, to the point where she laughed and said she needed to breathe.
'As for the rest of that lot...' Wood said, pulling them back on track.
'Oliver, if something happens to George and I, I honestly think you'd be better off playing without beaters than bringing in either of those two,' said Fred.
'Maybe we could prop up some suits of armor on brooms and stick a bat in their gauntlets,' said George. 'If we put them in quidditch robes hopefully no one would notice.'
Wood gave a hollow laugh.
'Why don't you just make sure nothing happens to you?' Angelina said, narrowing her eyes at the twins.
'Hey, it's not like we want to be partially dismembered, or land in detention, or have our souls sucked out by dementors, but you can't plan for everything,' said George, shrugging.
'Why those things specifically?' asked Alicia, looking concerned.
'I'm just going to make them our "official reserve beaters" and hope for the best,' Wood said, forestalling a tangent. 'They don't have to come to practice and maybe by next year whoever your new captain is will have some better options to choose from.'
'A solid plan,' said Fred. 'Hear that, George? Everything's riding on us not getting in trouble at all this year.'
'Oh, is that all? We'll be fine!'
'That's enough,' said Wood. 'On to the seekers. What did you think, Harry?'
'Both of them could use some practice, but that's doable,' Harry said. 'Bonham just seemed a bit too timid to me, though. Teague at least showed the nerve to put herself out there and risk her neck a little. We can work with that.'
'I agree. She can be our reserve seeker.' ('Oh, yay!' squealed Alicia, clapping happily.) 'And I do want her coming to practice. That's a position we absolutely can't do without. Not that I'm worried about anything happening to you, Harry,' he added quickly.
'Eh, why would you be?' said Harry airily. 'Dementors roaming around, an escaped murderer on the loose, and Voldemort out for my head? What could happen?'
Fred and George laughed, but Wood and the girls gave Harry a long, concerned look.
'Anyway,' said Wood after a protracted pause, 'that leaves us with the keepers. Fred, George, I know he's your brother, but...'
'You can say it,' said George.
'He was rubbish,' said Fred.
'Not complete rubbish,' said Wood, 'but basically, yeah. Though honestly that McClaggen bloke wasn't much better.'
'He can block a shot if he's actually focused on what he's supposed to be doing,' said Angelina fairly. 'He managed a few good saves, I thought.'
'That's going to be the issue; keeping him on task,' said Wood. 'I think we can manage it with a bit of training.'
Good luck with that, thought Harry, sparing a sad thought for Ron. He was going to be so disappointed.
'What if we can't?' asked Katie.
'Well, I don't intend on missing any games this year, so it shouldn't be a issue anyway,' said Wood. He knocked on his own head when everyone gave him startled looks for jinxing himself. 'After that, he'll be next year's captain's problem.'
The decisions made, Wood told them all to be ready for an early practice the next morning.
'But it's Sunday!' complained Alicia.
'Too bad,' said Wood. 'We're behind on practicing as it is.'
Harry refrained from saying 'And whose fault is that?', but only just. Judging by the looks on his teammates' faces, he wasn't the only one thinking it.
That evening, when the announcement was posted in the common room, there were equal parts excitement and disappointment. Romy Teague allowed herself to be hugged by an excited Alicia, though she looked rather pleased with herself all the same. Ron seemed to take his rejection as a given, though as his siblings and Harry reminded him, he was one of the last two up for consideration, and there was always next year.
Ginny was touched by the other three chasers' determination to not only have her on the team, but to make sure she played all three games. She hugged them all, and her brothers, and then finally Harry. They'd known she was going to make the team – how could she not? – but it was exciting all the same. Not for the first time, Harry felt he understood what Ginny had meant during his first visit to the Burrow about "wish fulfillment". Even with every other insane thing going on, he'd at least get to experience something as delightfully normal as playing on the house quidditch team with his girlfriend.
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This one was mostly about bringing in some new characters to play with that, let's be honest, will probably only show up every once in a while.
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