3. Quidditch
The stories regarding the hellhound and the friendly vine-monster died out as quickly as they circled the student body. In honor of my promise to Potter, I denied the credibility of it to everyone who gave me the chance to. Seeing as the story was told by Fred and George, I was sure that eventually, folks will start to take it as an exaggeration of what actually happened. I'd hate to make out my newfound pals as liars, but I doubt they'd give a puff if anyone believed them or not.
October seeped in, which everyone was fairly excited over. October 12 was only a few days later and it marked the first Hogsmeade weekend of the term. There we were, fighting as we planned our trip together.
"I disagree," said Aaron. "We should first go by The Three Broomsticks and then by Honeydukes and then the forest to watch the sunset."
"Aaron," said Adrian firmly, his tone carrying a bit of frustration by now. "We went over this. Butterbeer gets me all sleepy so we should go to the pub last."
Aaron, agitated as well: "Well, then have a coffee instead of butterbeer, you twat!"
"Now, why would I go to The Three Broomsticks to get a coffee, Aaron?" Adrian then looked to me for support.
"I agree with Aaron, and butterbeer's overrated." I pitched. Adrian just scoffed, throwing his arms up in exasperation.
Aaron, furthering his point: "Why would we go to the pub last? What are we, in are thirties trying to get wasted? The forest should be last..."
"If anything's overrated, it's the sunset...," said Adrian, his finger out for emphasis.
Me, finally finding a place to jump in: "Hold on, have we forgotten about getting my broomstick repaired?"
Aaron: "Oh, c'mon mate, you're not making the team..."
Adrian: "... It happens literally everyday, not just on weekends."
Aaron: "And I'm not doubting you, Jack. Gryffindor's just stacked at the moment."
Seeing that Aaron seemed to calm down a bit, Cho decided to speak up. "Okay, but when can we-..."
Adrian: "No."
"We're not going to the damned library, Cho!" Says Aaron, his anger returning instantly.
Adrian: "Not on a Hogsmeade weekend, jeez..."
Aaron: "Not on any weekend!"
"Okay..." Cho whimpered.
I tried slipping in a response to Aaron about how I didn't care about making the team, but I was overwhelmed as Adrian and Aaron went back and forth yet again.
Aaron: "First is the pub..."
Adrian: "The pub is not first..."
Aaron: "Oh, take your butterbeer to go, you wuss!"
Adrian: "... for the last time..."
"STOP SHOUTING!" Cho was almost in tears. "This... is my very first Hogsmeade weekend. And all I want to to do is go. But if we're going to have a fight about it, then I very well might go with Marietta..."
I wasn't doing much shouting and even I felt like a git. Adrian's face fell into shame and Aaron's fell to the marble floor.
It was Adrian that broke first. "We're sorry, Cho. We got carried away, it's the first Hogsmeade trip of the term, so you know..."
Aaron followed, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, sorry Cho..."
"You two are gits..." I said, trying to lighten the mood obviously. Cho gave me a slight push but that only meant she was amused even if she didn't show it.
"Now, I was going to let you guys dictate our weekend, but since I'm the only one mature enough to do so, then I might as well do it, no..." She looked around, waiting for any one of us to oppose her. "... no... posh. Now, I will be stopping by Tomes and Scrolls, thank you very much. I'll go alone if I have to, I don't mind at all. But on the off-chance you do want to accompany your friend, then we'll go to The Three Broomsticks first. Stop being a wuss, Adrian..."
"Okay..." He whimpered.
After Cho broke down the plan for us all, we each gave her an obedient nod of our heads and then went to our classes shortly after.
Saturday was three days away. I must admit, I wasn't as excited as I should have been. The talk of the room on the third floor may have been put to rest, but that didn't help my thoughts from lingering. I did promise to Potter that I would hold my tongue about it, but I never said I wouldn't return. A Hogsmeade weekend did sound like a perfect time to do that, but not the one coming up. Too obvious. I might as well ask Potter to get in on it.
After classes ended for the day, Cho dragged both Adrian and Aaron with her to find more students to support her petition. Meanwhile, I retired to the commons, more confident in doing so now that I made two new friends in Fred and George. Although it bugged me that I now have to find a way to differentiate the two.
I muttered the ridiculous phrase of a password, "Pixie Pomona," before crawling into the portrait hole. I'm not sure when exactly the school was founded, but the hole as an entryway made me consider the founders being pre-teens at the time. Either that or the Gryffindor stereotypes weren't just stereotypes.
Making it into the commons, I bumped into Harry, his face frowning upon the sight of me. I kept my resolve and smiled at both him and his friend as well. "What's up? How's the term been for the both of you?"
No words, just a glare as he walked past me. His friend, Ron, I think it was, Fred and George's little brother, made eye contact with me for a second before following Harry's lead.
I shrugged it off as I walked over to the sofa where Fred and George sat, smiling at me, ignorant of my brief encounter with Harry.
"What's his deal," I asked more to myself as I sat with them.
"Oh, he's just like that," answered Fred. I'm guessing it was Fred.
"He's always been a weird egg," followed the other, who must be George then.
I was mildly confused with their answers and didn't respond until they simultaneously claimed that he may in fact be adopted.
"I meant Harry." I clarified.
"Oh!" Fred exclaimed, laughing. "Harry's great!"
"He is," George followed. "He just doesn't like you it seems."
"Probably because..." Fred's sentence faltered, which I chose to ignore.
"Probably because his father really likes you," George offered. "Git's just jealous."
I nodded. "Sure..."
It seems like kindness wasn't going to break the ice with Harry. I decided I'd let him be for now.
"You know, Harry's our new Seeker," Fred mentioned, changing the topic. Wait, I marked him as George, I'm pretty sure. Yes, it was George.
Anyways, the news hit me with an unpleasant shock. "But try-outs aren't 'til next week."
"Yeah, well apparently, McGonagall saw some potential in him during Flying lessons," George explained.
There goes my position. The Seeker position was what I was relying on to make the lineup as Charles Weasley graduated. I was certain I wouldn't beat any of the Gryffindor girls out for a Chaser position, and anyone else in any other position for that matter.
"Well, is Wood still holding try-outs," I asked.
"Yeah, but Harry's position is pretty much set in stone..." said Fred, his eyes focused on whatever piece of plastic he was tinkering with. "Sorry, mate. McGonagall's call."
"It's whatever," I replied, hiding my frustration.
"Say, why ain't you make Slytherin's lineup last term," asked George. "I saw you out there during try-outs last term."
"Yeah. You're not half bad," followed Fred.
I explained to them the dislike I had for my housemates then, which in turn affected my chances of making the team. They both nodded understandingly, claiming they had noticed me more than a few times in company with those of other houses rather than with fellow Slytherins.
"Here I thought a Black would be held high among Slytherins," said Fred.
Try-outs were still being held. So there was still a glimpse of hope. Whatever George had said about a Black among Slytherins, I didn't quite register. I was too busy planning ahead.
Now, Harry must have shown great talent if he was able to get the position without so much as even trying out. Either that, or the Head of Gryffindor was playing favorites, which I highly doubted considering it was McGonagall. If the Seeker position was taken, then Wood is most likely looking for players to keep in reserve. I wouldn't mind that at all, but I was still determined to make an official position.
"Weather seems pleasant," I started, grasping the attention of both Weasley's. "Perfect for quidditch."
Fred eagerly pocketed what he was holding. "Should I gather some players for a pick-up game," he asked with a wide grin.
"I'm up for it." I replied with a shrug.
"Don't worry, we won't tell them you're playing until we get to the pitch. C'mon, George."
How thoughtful.
I was a bit proud, knowing that I had guessed them correctly. The two split up, George starting here in the commons as Fred raced up the steps.
...
I obviously didn't think things through, the fact that my broomstick was owled to me in pieces slipping my mind. However, George- I think -let me use his old Cleansweeper, which sputtered to life as I mounted it, worrying me just a bit. We did however have a spotter on site in the case that anyone fell. It was Seamus, an overly eager first-year who was just happy to be involved. I surely couldn't rely in his spellcasting abilities, so I told the bloke to catch me if anything, giving him the same speech I gave Hermione about Gryffindor loyalty. He seemed proud of himself after I made it clear that I trusted him with my life. His solemn nod gave me confidence. I now know that I wouldn't be visiting Madame Pomfrey alone today.
"Alright, alright," Fred announced, swooping down to hover lowly above the grass. "Traditional pick up rules, no Bludgers, Beaters, Snitches, Seekers. The game is up to 100, win by 20."
"Call your own fouls," Lee Jordan pitched.
"Exactly," Fred continued. "There will be no fouls. If any two of you need to settle your differences, well, we have a line of first-years waiting to take your spots. Questions?"
"Nope," answered George immediately. "Positions!"
I saw a couple of the Gryffindors glare at me as they saw me get in position, which I returned defiantly. Though, my gaze never lingered. I had better things to focus on.
The Quaffle was up and so was I. I think I was the first to kick up off the ground, yet my broomstick clearly wasn't the best. Regardless, I was able to get to the Quaffle before Kenneth Towler, a fellow Gryffindor on the opposing team. With a swift pull on my broomstick, I flipped backwards and hit the Quaffle with the front end of the shaft, batting it towards George before Towler could get a grip on it.
George gave a loud, appreciative whoop before zooming towards the enemy's goal. It was a five-on-five with four Chasers on each team. To fill each team, we had to include three Hufflepuffs who were idly standing by when I arrived at the pitch. One of them was on our team.
Towler didn't appreciate how I almost knocked him in the head with my broomstick, and seemingly tried to retaliate when Lee passed the Quaffle my way. Although, I sensed he wouldn't have liked that and kept him in my peripheral.
Instead of catching the Quaffle and taking on Towler's full force as he tried to ram me, not so subtly, I might add, I lightly swatted the Quaffle downwards. As I did that, I spun to my left in a downwards motion, dodging Towler before regaining possession of the Quaffle.
I heard someone make a comment on my move, but I didn't care to spare a glance. Racing ahead, I pass the Quaffle back to Jordan, who threw it overhead to Fred, who then kicked it into a goal, giving us our first point.
"Ten-Nil," Jordan announced, or rather bragged, by the sound of it.
"Nice one, mate," I said greeting Fred with an energetic high-five. I tried to avoid using their names, especially now since the constant movement made it hard for me to keep track of who I marked them as. Then again, I'm never completely sure whenever I mark them.
The game went on longer than I expected, seeing how stacked our team was with three players being on Gryffindor's quidditch team, Alicia Spinnet being our Keeper. But I didn't realize that the opposition had Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker, as one of their Chasers. His efforts were what contributed the most, scoring four of their six goals. But we eventually came out on top.
It was a good game. Towler was persistent in getting his comeback from me for the most part. I had to bump shoulders with him a few times to see if that would settle him down. But it didn't, so for a good part of the game, the both of us were playing a rough game of tag. That was until Towler was a bit too close to our goal and Alicia, who I have never interacted with before, slammed into him, claiming that she thought he had the quaffle, a blatant lie. that one. She whispered something to him, which seemed to knock him down a peg, I saw. Since then, Towler had been keeping his distance. I didn't know if I should nod at her to show my appreciation or if that was too assuming of me. So I shot her a smile, which she then returned with a nod.
After the game, we shook hands, McLaggen, who was their Keeper, ignored my hand and walked straight to Jordan. Towler, on the other hand, did shake my hand. With a nod as well.
"Good game," I said, returning the gesture. Whatever Alicia had told him must have really shaken him. I'm not sure what it was, but I was glad for it.
Instead of flying back to the castle like the rest did, the five of us who were teammates, excluding the Hufflepuff, walked. It was safe to say that they were more than satisfied with my performance. They didn't just compliment my flying skills, but also my field of vision, which I jokingly accredited to my status as a pureblood. It was a risky joke, some would think, but it was met with the laughter.
"So, if you are a pureblood," Alicia began with a curious tone, "is your father also a Black? Forgive me if I'm prying, but I always assumed you were half muggle. Since you're mother- I've heard -was Cassiopeia Black." Her statement took a turn I didn't expect. Although, I do see how it could be significant, being the son of my mother. "I thought you were half muggle and just took on your wizarding namesake, which is why I thought you didn't get along with your fellow- I mean, the Slytherins. My bad, I'm still getting used to you being a Gryffindor now."
I shook my head, telling her not to worry.
"No, that is my mother, yes, but I don't really know who my father is." I said, keeping my tone carefully light as to not attract pity. It momentarily slipped my mind of whose company I was in.
"Probably some wanker she met at the pub," George said so casually. I was prepared to laugh, except I saw that he wasn't joking and that everyone else shrugged, actually considering the possibility.
"... I hope so," I said after a moment, getting curious looks from everyone. "Well, so far, I'm the Black Heir and the last thing I need is some bastard to come in and have access to my Gringotts vault."
I said it so seriously, yet it was met with laughter. They were an odd bunch, honestly.